To the End & Back Again
by YuKiOnA-Ga
Summary: They both have issues and secrets that need to be handled between them, but with a war approaching and curses that bind them together they don't have the time to bother with the small things. A story of war, peace, friendship, love, witches, and dragons. Merricup. Complete.
1. Introduction

So, it has certainly been...awhile since I've uploaded something.

To be honest, I never believed I would ever upload anything on this site _again._ It's been _years, _people. _Years. _But, never say never, I guess.

Because, as odd as this is, _do I have a story for ya'll. _

But first, a preface!

_How to Train Your Dragon 3: The Hidden World_ released on February 22nd here in the U.S. and I saw it during the first week of viewings. To say that I was disappointed was an understatement—I was utterly distraught over this film franchise that I had grown to love and invest in so dearly (honestly probably more than I ought to have!) and the finale was a massive failure in my eyes. The entire thing made no sense and I was utterly bereft at the thought that Hiccup and Toothless, who had faced such terrible things, would be separated. There were so many questions left unanswered, so many promises unfulfilled, so many expectations shattered by the film. I literally denied its entire existence and told every friend I knew to be a fan that it wasn't worth the money or the trip to the theaters and, to be honest, I still very much feel this way. It was heartbreaking—it wasn't what I wanted or felt we, as viewers, rightfully deserved.

(If you also have some issues with the ending, I will leave a link here to go to an Archive of Our Own page where someone outlines every single issue I had with the film and then some! Thanks Ethan Joseph!)

I was also going through a huge transition period. As I said, it has been _years _since I have read, written, or even bothered with Fanfiction. I've grown up, finished my undergraduate degrees and flew halfway around the world to take part in a graduate program overseas. The film's rather lackluster ending, mixed with my fear for the future and the various upheavals I was undergoing in my life, spurred me to write something I've never even considered before: a crossover.

And this is no ordinary crossover—this is_ over three hundred pages_ of crossover.

Oh, yeah. You read that right.

It's already complete.

_(You're welcome.)_

I fell into the weird _Rise of the Guardians_ meets _Brave_ meets _Tangled_ meets _How to Train Your Dragon_ fandom by complete accident. I had always been a big fan of Astrid and Hiccup, they were a cute and well-written animated relationship, but my distaste for the final film in the trilogy seemed to taint every aspect of the franchise and the whole baby-boomer ending turned me off them as a couple so I started finding alternatives. Once again, let me reiterate, I am _old_ and I still_ have_ and_ use_ my Pinterest boards. So, when I stumbled across a couple fan-drawings and animations and a whole Buzzfeed collection someone made, I was sucked in and obsessed with the idea of Merida from _Brave_ and Hiccup from _How to Train Your Dragon_ meeting and interacting. Plus, with my historical background, deep love for the show _Vikings_ and with nothing to do since I had just graduated, I put fingers to keys and pumped out an insane amount of work.

It started out as something fun to do, a way for me to take control of something I loved and attempt to mold it into something that I preferred, to fix it, in a way. I was bored and used to working, typing papers upon papers upon papers for classes that were just suddenly...over. And I had months before my other program began and I'd be doing triple the work and I was so daunted by reality that fantasy seemed like the best escape. The fanfics I found were few and far in between, incomplete, or just written by _younger _hands, shall we say.

But all that is besides the point.

The real point is_ this_: I am now deeply invested with this fandom and have written all this for your viewing pleasure. Feel free to review if you so please, but I'm not going to be checking and hoping blindly for strangers to look at this and find genius in it. The story has holes and flaws and is in need of editing that I don't have the time nor the emotional room to do. I came up with this rough idea and suddenly it grabbed me by the throat and demanded I just keep writing. Things I never saw coming, happened — things I planned were tossed right as I was beginning to write it! It just _fell _out of me and I am oddly proud of the whole thing. The characters really drove the entire thing, their wants and hopes and dreams really filled me and I couldn't help but empathize with all of them, clamoring and chasing after their own will-o-wisps. I sat next to Merida on her throne, I flew with Hiccup across the sea and sky, I mourned with Elinor and Fergus and raged with Stoick and Valka. It was an exhilarating, all encompassing thing that really kept begging and itching at me that I just keep going. It was important to me, when I should have been doing many other things that demanded my attention.

I hope very much to have time to write more stories in the future, this was not only fun but cathartic and I have a couple more ideas that I'd love to one day see realized.

Will they? Well, who can really say?

But, for now, please enjoy my introduction into this weird conglomeration of fandoms! I hope you like it and, hey, if you really feel the need, give me some feedback, I might drop by and give them a scan.

Also, let me give a special shout out to my Otter Princess, who encourages me daily to be the gigantic dork I am and to publish this mini-novel I had created.

Ciao for now, kids.

-Yukiona.


	2. Chapter One: Loss

**I don't own _Brave_ or _HTTYD._ **

* * *

Chapter One: Loss

In a small cabin in the middle of a darkened wood, an old woman crossed to her hearth with a cup of tea that clattered on its saucer with each step in rhythm with the steady thump of her cane. A goggle-eyed crow peered at her from his nest in the corner eave, head tilting left and right as he watched the hag approach a boiling cauldron. The elderly woman gave a sigh as she peered into a bubbling, dark green goo that smelled like pine needles and oak leaves. She leaned her cane against the wall, the eyes on the carved bear head peering at her with a pleasant gaze as she put her tea down on a low table.

Grabbing the massive wooden paddle sitting next to the cauldron, she gave a few more turns of the liquid.

"Come now," she murmured to the brew, "Won'ye show me what I want'a see? Hmm?"

The potion burped in response, a stream of green smoke rising upward.

The witch huffed, dropping her paddle as she went back to her tea.

"What shall we see, eh, Alec? The forrest shakes in anticipation…I wonder what will become of us?"

There was a great bellow and the Cailleach rolled her eyes at the sudden drama as her entire home filled with the acidic smoke. It swirled around her, the raven giving a great croak of fear as he beat his black wings and flew out of range.

The crone took a slurp of her tea as the cloud collected and manifested a blurred picture, showing her shifting, hypnotic images of what was to come in the following weeks. When it finally cleared, she squinted at the symbols. Her yellow eyes now reflecting green, narrowed as more was revealed to her. Finally, the ball of smoke dispersed and fell to cover her floor before slowly sifting into nothingness, settling into the cracks between her floorboards.

Moira, the witch, put her tea on a table, ignoring the clatter made by the porcelain in her shaking hands.

"Well…tha' was unexpected."

"What do we do? What do we do?" Her crow squawked, wings still flapping in panic.

"Why, we must wait, my dear Alec. Fate can'nae be changed…"

She sat, slumping a bit in an old, worn chair with blue upholstery. Her wrinkled hand came to the pendant around her neck, polished silver inlaid with connected, crisscrossing lines of low relief that formed three bears. Each figure had an emerald eye that sparkled in the firelight.

"She will be safe, though…he will protect her."

Her lips tipped up in a pleased but sardonic smile.

"The witch's apprentice and the dragon-soul…sounds like an ol' legend, doesn't it?"

She cackled in tune with her raging fire.

* * *

Hiccup sat on the ledge of a high cliff face that opened wide towards the glittering ocean of the Archipelago as he whittled away at a hunk of cedar. His blade, a scale from Heather's Windshear, was carefully carving away and making the sharp, sweet smell rise into the cool air. He raised the work in progress to the setting sun, turning it this way and that, analyzing the rough hewn surface with a critical eye. Huffing softly, he let everything drop as he eyed the horizon and rapidly scanned for his dragon.

When the outline of Toothless was not visible anywhere along the skyline, he picked his work back up. The shape was obvious now, and he began to work out the fine details along the wings and scales. His mind was entirely focused on the task, the tip of the Razorwhip scale easily piercing the wood as he outlined the sharp lines of the Death Song. He couldn't help but softly hum, remembering the baby dragon that he and the others had rescued with a soft smile on his lips. The screeching sound of the massive violent wings careening towards the rock face alerted the boy to the incoming reptile.

Hiccup muttered quietly to himself, mockingly, "_Nightfury! Get down!"_

Chuckling at his own antics, Hiccup looked up to see Toothless do some impressive somersaults before landing silently behind him. He stood, brushing off his pants, before approaching the beast. Toothless nuzzled his outstretched palm, his long tongue rasping along his wrist in greeting and recognition.

"Hey, bud," he gave him a good scratch under the chin, mimicking the echoing coo the dragon emitted with a humanoid version, "Good flight tonight?"

The Nightfury gave an affirmative grunt before rolling over onto his back, digging the wing joints into the dirt as he flopped and wiggled to ease the ache of a long flight. Hiccup put his hands on his hips, shaking his head and some of the long strands of his hair out of his eyes.

"Will you be good to go tomorrow?"

The dragon spun back onto his four legs, shaking the stray bits of grass and dirt from his hide. He gave Hiccup a long, pensive gaze that spoke volumes. The boy of twenty years bit back a sigh and kicked at a few loose stones.

"I want to leave," he told the dragon softly, "You and me, bud. All the way, until the end of the world reaches up to grab us. This place," he gestured down to the port city before his lost foot and Toothless' prosthetic tail-fin, "Berk…they've taken enough of us."

He turned his emerald gaze to the dragon's vermillion, locking.

"Are you with me?"

Toothless huffed, curling around his rider, rubbing the top of his head right under Hiccup's chin.

"Let's go tell Mom and Dad then…"

As Hiccup and his onyx colored companion descended the cliff, he soaked in the vision of his childhood home and tried to ignore the tense grip on his guts. He expected a loneliness, an emptiness or even some trepidation, but there was only steely resolve that settled like Gronkle iron in his belly. When he passed, people waved and shouted his name in praise and adoration, calling out to both him and his dragon. Hiccup nodded and raised his palm in greeting but hurried along towards his home at the top of the hill.

When Spitelout praised him, he only heard his taunts of calling him 'Hiccup the Horrendous' and his threats of bodily harm. When he saw Astrid's parents smile gently and nod at him, he could hear their sharp whispers of his weakness and his near constant damage to the village and the one time he heard them in the Great Hall as they wondered why Stoick had not tossed his pathetic body into the freezing waters of the ocean. When Gothi waved from her perch above the noise of the village, he remembered her sad, pitiful gaze as she stitched and bound and prescribed her potions and herbs for his numerous wounds that were usually inflicted at the hands of furious citizens of Berk. When his friends crowded him, he was conflicted—he remembered their kindness and their cruelties both, when they saved and nearly killed him in equal parts love and hatred.

When he stepped inside his childhood home, he was warmed at the hearty laughter of his mother and father both. As they chortled over this and that, he felt a twinge of guilt at the distress he was going to cause them. Both stopped to wipe their eyes and welcome their son home, Valka standing to envelop both him and his dragon in a hug.

"How's the new tail, son?" Stoick asked, putting down a massive horn of mead.

"Perfect. Toothless no longer needs me to fly now," he rubbed the flat top of the dragon's head with his palm.

Stoick made an affirmative noise as Valka claimed she had to take care of Cloudjumper and went to leave, but Hiccup stopped her.

"Actually, you guys…there's, uh...something I need to talk to you about."

Stoick beamed behind his massive beard, expecting his son to finally agree that he was ready to begin his training to take his position as Chief of the Hooligans and leader of Berk. The last conversation they had ended in frustration on both ends, Hiccup flying off into the dark underbelly of storm clouds and getting soaked, landing on a nearby island and hiding for nearly three days before he finally returned home. It had driven his father to near madness, but his mother had cautioned against any attempt to force their son into a position of power.

The massive man stood, reaching for Hiccup but the young man held his hands out to stop him.

"Dad…" he turned to face his recently found mother, "Mom…I'm leaving."

There was a beat, before objections began on both ends, rather loudly. Toothless lowered himself to the ground, not liking the raised voices.

"I don't understand—" Valka stuttered, reaching for Hiccup while looking at the raging Viking across the room.

"Wha' do ye mean, yer leavin'?" Stoick roared.

"I can't stay here, Dad, not…not anymore."

"Things were coming together! You-you—you will be chief! No, I forbid it!"

"Stoick!" His Mom hissed behind his shoulder.

"Please, Dad, listen—" Hiccup tried, soft and calm.

"No! I am the' chief! _You_ listen to _me!_" He bellowed, "Ye are the only heir to the Haddock family! You cannot escape yer fate, son!"

"This _isn't _my fate, Dad!" Hiccup was trying not to raise his voice, but he suddenly felt like he was fourteen again, getting screamed at for trying to help during a raid.

"You believed _my fate_ was to slay dragons a few years ago. Now you-you expect me to, what, rule the very people that wanted me dead when I was kid?"

Valka went painfully still.

"Husband," that was a threat and even Hiccup knew it, "What does yer son speak of?"

Stoick's nostrils flared with rage, but his eyes were downcast.

"Hiccup the Horror, Hiccup the Horrendous, Hiccup the Horrible, Hiccup the Hopeless, Hiccup the _hiccup!" _

The younger man took a deep breath, shaking his head and grunting in annoyance.

"This place only loves me because I saved them…what will happen if I start to mess up again? They'll turn on me, Dad," Hiccup pleaded, hands open in askance, "You could keep your position because the citizens and the council fear and respect you. I've freed Toothless by giving him this tail…he may leave me, he may stay with me but either way I can't depend on him to protect me forever. What if…what if the dragons come back and I can't tame them, or there's another Bewilderbeast? What if other tribes start attacking us and I lose battles against the Berserkers or the Outsider Tribe? I can't garner the respect that you did, Dad! The village…"

He looked to his mother.

"I'm different. I always have been. Hunting for trolls in the woods, tinkering, making toys and traps and machines…because this was never my home or my people. I was tossed aside since I was kid, Dad, and this-this isn't meant to attack you! Or blame you," he rounded to the woman who abandoned him in his cradle so many years ago.

"You both did what you believed to be right. But my life hasn't been easy. And there are just…too many open wounds to dedicate my life to the very people who used to whisper about why you didn't toss me to a dragon in my childhood, just to be rid of me!"

Everyone was painfully still after Hiccup's outburst. Toothless warbled from the door, questioning his friend.

"What about Astrid?"

He shrugged, "She made it clear when she was appointed a council member that her life and home are here and when I explained that I wasn't ready or willing to accept the role of Chief and wanted to leave…so…we went our separate ways?"

"Hiccup," Valka gave a tight little laugh, "If this is all about yer girl, son, there are plenty of women—!"

"No, Mom, no, that's not it. We ended…amicably," he shrugged.

He loved her, truly he did. So much it burned his chest and throat to think of her now after she had left him on a nearby island a few days ago. She had raged and swore, tearing at her wheat colored locks as she tried to appease all of his past hurts while simultaneously demanding that he give his life to the village that had abused him so much in his youth. He'd never forget the way that she rode off into the skyline on a chirping Stormfly, tears glittering in the early spring sun. Out of all his friends and fellow riders, she was probably the only one he forgave completely for her earlier actions and harshness, if for no other fact that he loved her so fiercely.

"I want…no, I _need _to travel. To chart this world from one horizon to another and I _need_—!" he was cut off by Stoick's huff of rage.

"I thought this was all done," his father growled, "I let you have that-that-that base! That island! Yer own band of dragon riders, who _you_ were in charge of and who _you_ trained!"

"And I hated every second of it! I'm the reason Dagur is _dead, _dad!"

There was another beat of dawning realization on his parents.

"Every time, dad, they looked to me! When we were attacked or-or raided! They always looked to me and I had to somehow supply answers! What if I had _failed?_ What _if_, dad? How would you treat me if, say, Snotlout had been blown to shreds in an attack? Or one of the twins? Or _Astrid _had died, instead of Dagur? Their parents would be at your door, no longer singing my praises, but wanting my head on a pike!"

His father took him gently by the shoulders, eyes wide and wet.

"Hiccup…that's leadership. With love comes loss, son; that's part of the deal…"

"Then I don't want it," Hiccup shrugged out of his grip, straightening himself up.

"Yer—Stoick," Valka whispered, halting her husband with an arm across his, "He's not ready. It's as simple as that…"

"I may never be ready, mom," Hiccup stared at her, hard and unyielding.

"You both may want to discuss who another heir should be. I'll check in every few months, see how things are going, alert you if there are any attacks on the water or in the air headed your way. I'll keep my ear to the ground about the Outsider tribe and Lava-Louts as well."

"Son!"

"Hiccup!"

But he was already walking past them, reaching out to his beloved friend. Toothless blinked slitted eyes, his nervousness apparent in his low, crouched stance. The door swung open wide and he looked back to see his mother's hands covering her mouth as she sobbed, his father enveloping her in his massive arms as they both stared at his back.

"I love you both. Now and always."

And two dark figures disappeared into the cloudy night.

* * *

Toothless flew them both to the small island south of Berk, where he and Astrid had convened only three days beforehand. He had meant to wait until morning, to have spent one more night with his parents, eating, laughing, conversing about everything that he would see and experience and what he was excited and worried about. However, he had expected too much from those that didn't want or possibly couldn't understand him. He had apologized to his dragon, murmuring in his ear-like appendages that they would still get their rest.

Toothless didn't seem to mind. He shot off several plasma blasts, four out of his allotted six, letting the light catch on the dark, low-lying clouds, flashing like lightening with a thundering, sonic boom. Hiccup knew that his dragon was excited to experience new places together as well as perhaps show him all the spots he had landed on or found before he was so brutally shot down on Berk. Hiccup's map was still so incomplete and the thought of the open ocean and new islands to discover made his heart pound faster under his dragon-hide armor.

Hiccup lifted his face to the clouds, the mist spraying his uncovered cheeks and collecting into little droplets on his stubble. It was still cold, despite the fairly early arrival of spring, but Hiccup didn't mind. Whether it was raining, snowing, sunny or cloudy, he would never stop aching for the thrill of flight. At times he begrudged not being born a dragon, that he would never know firsthand the ache of wings and fury of breathing fire.

Toothless gave a low warble, signaling their approach. They landed on the small outcropping that opened up into a cramped valley where a pool and cave were hidden with dense foliage. The cave was where his supplies and helmet were currently stashed, as well as a warm bedroll that was calling to him.

"Ready for bed, bud?"

Toothless trilled happily, letting a low plasma stream heat up the cold stones surrounding them. They both tucked themselves in, Hiccup not even bothering with the complicated straps of his armor and letting sleep wrap his warm hands around both of them. Hiccup would have liked to say that he dreamed of home, of Berk, of Astrid and his parents and all the things he intended to leave behind like one last sweet goodbye to all that he ever knew—but instead he dreamed of wide open seas and touching the clouds day after day, trading and learning new tongues, building a path for himself away from the miserable little island crammed into the meridian of nowhere.

Berk was behind him now—it was time to look forward.

* * *

**Two Years Later**

_"__Come on!"_

Hiccup forced Toothless into a deep dive, the resounding screech of the Nightfury's awesome wing strength a loud siren in his ears.

"Now!"

Toothless' last plasma bolt hit the port city, the beaches full of large-scale machines that were hurtling boulders and sharpened harpoons at Hiccup and his dragon. He had thought this was a non-hostile place, considering the peoples' accents and clothing very similar to other places he had previously visited without danger, but he had been shown very wrong.

Yanking them both directly back up, Hiccup plastered himself to the back of his dragon as the careened out of the way. When Toothless leveled out in the clouds, he began cooing and clicking softly in concern, his head swiveling back to see his rider.

"I'm okay," Hiccup sagged against his warm, dark hide, but his hand immediately unpeeled from his saddle to go for the massive slice on his thigh. The blood was obviously alerting his dragon, who could smell the acidic, irony reek as well as feel it dripping down his flank. Hiccup found himself half smiling sardonically, knowing if Toothless had still been stuck with the pedal prosthetic he originally designed, they'd have been downed and dead because there was no way that he could have used his leg to change the dragon's flight patterns.

"We just have to get out of here, bud, okay?" Hiccup gasped, sweat dotting his brow as the adrenaline of battle faded quicker than he liked.

Toothless warbled, a high pitch due to his concern, but also a warning—_hold on_.

Unable to clench his legs around the dragon, Hiccup held on tight as Toothless shot them through the clouds as fast as he was able. He had to get them to safety, his own sense of self preservation cut distinctly with his worry of his best friend. Toothless was no simple pet, he and Hiccup were obviously connected, and not just through their similar injuries. Toothless, no matter what, would not leave the young man to whom his soul was so tightly wound with.

So he straightened his body and flexed his muscles, blending in with the high clouds that were dark enough to conceal his dark hide and shot into the oncoming night.

* * *

**DunBroch**

"Merida! Merida, Merida, Merida!"

The three princes, now a staggering twelve years old, called to the reigning princess with high pitched, uneven voices that were between child and young adult. The young surrogate queen stood, a knot in her chest that attempted to strangle her voice as her brothers skidded to a halt at the thrones' dais, falling on their hands and knees before her, not out of respect of her position, but exhaustion.

"Boys?"

The began clamoring at once for her attention, Hubert, Hamish and Harris all seeming to vie to be heard first.

She raised a hand, channeling her mother.

The knot was curling tighter and she dare not speak.

She pointed to Hamish, the most logical of the three. He would be a great strategist and aid to whomever he joined with, king or pauper. He was unfortunately as predictable as the tide, which rose and fell with whomever Hamish wanted to side with or help that day. He was flighty, to be sure, but he was far too clever for his own good and although it was usually Harris that lead the group, it was Hamish that usually came up with all the disastrous ideas.

"Merida," he whispered, afraid now suddenly that his brothers were not speaking over him, "There is something…something in the woods."

She rose up a bit, a deep breath caught in her throat.

"Something…? A bear? Like Mor'du?"

They all shook their heads, and she began to notice just how stark their red hair was against their pallor.

"I don't know what it is," Hamish whispered again, "I don't know if it's a…an animal or a demon…"

"A demon?"

Her father would have laughed. Her father would have scooped them all up, still so skinny and small that his massive arms could contain his beloved boys, and he would have assured them that it was only the trick of the light and their imaginations that frightened them so. Their mother would have soothed brows and kissed cheeks and promised that all was well.

But they weren't there—they, along with their entire army, were with the Dingwall clan, who requested aid after being attacked by Viking invaders for the seventh time this summer. The last correspondence she had with them, the Lord Dingwall's son had been injured horribly in a battle with a beast unlike her mother or father had seen before.

They had claimed they were _dragons_.

Merida closed her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Boys. Ye will go to yer rooms and ye will not leave. With the army away, we can take no chances that whatever ye may have seen was not related to…to the invaders. I will take a few riders and we will see what we can find."

"Merida…" Hubert stood, stony eyed and starkly skinned.

He was the most sensitive of them. He was a scholar at heart, she knew, and took no interests in swords or battle. He knew every ancestor they ever had and spent day after day cooped up in their dusty libraries, with books far bigger than Merida dared touch.

"I…" he braced himself, because they now knew what Merida had faced so many years ago—they were stripped of much of their freedoms and had to begin to act and behave and train to be the kings they would be. They would be married to ladies of high birth and would take their rightful places on thrones of various other kingdoms.

Unless one wanted her throne, of which she was the rightful heir of Dunbroch.

"I request an audience with you," he bowed, "…alone."

The two other brothers shared an odd look.

"Hamish, Harris. Ye are excused," Merida schooled a wince at just how much she sounded like her mother. She stood with a practiced, pounded in grace as she approached her younger brother. He cowed, only slightly, and he began to lead her out of the main hall towards the East wing towards the main library of the castle. Merida knew this because when the boy disappeared, she often found him hiding here.

"I found a book, some time ago…a book of a land that is far to the North-East of us, hidden in smoke and mystery. It is mainly islands clustered together, which is why…why the Vikings are such good sailors."

Merida drew in a breath and reached out with lightening speed, wrapping her fingers around her brothers arm and yanking him with a good bit of force to stand closer her. She hovered over him, her teeth bared in a hot flash of rage.

"Ye found a book on Vikings _weeks ago _and ye are only telling me _now?"_

"I'm sorry! Merida! Ye're hurting me!" He whimpered and she dropped him immediately, her breathing heavy. Her eyes unfocused before closing in on his terrified expression and she straightened as he pulled away to a safer distance.

"I still expect an answer," she barked.

"I-I-I…" he stuttered, tears glittering in his eyes and Merida stomped on a rush of more irritation.

"I thought it was just a myth…a story! A legend!"

She closed her eyes to summon the patience of her mother, but her father's annoyance and fury were reigning in her heart.

"Legends," she sighed through her nose, "Are lessons. They ring with truth. Whether or not it is completely factual is besides the point. Ye should have delivered it to me at once."

She passed him in the hallway, her skirt smacking against his leg as she took long, unladylike strides. Hubert shuffled along quickly beside her as she flung herself into the library, halting her stomping so that her younger brother could find a tome hidden away on the shelf despite her great desire to pace around the tables. He held it out to her hesitantly as she yanked it from his grip.

It was a small book, more like a journal. She flipped through it quickly, finding entries on different types of dragons. She opened it to the introduction page, reading quickly,

_'__Dragons are divided into seven categories: Strike class, Tracker class, Sharp class, Boulder class, Tidal class, Stoker class, and Mystery class…'_

"This…this is a manual. To kill them…"

She flipped further.

_'__Noise distracts a dragon and can throw off its aim…'_

She thumbed forward.

_'__Aim for the weakest spots, the eyes and lower belly which has thinner scales than…'_

Further.

_'__The tails and wings are essential for flying—attempting to strike these areas proves the most difficult but remains the most successful in bringing down a dragon in order to…'_

Snapping it shut, she took a deep breath. Without another word she crossed the library and began to walk back towards her own room. She needed to change in order to ride and hunt with some of the other men that will help her in the attempt to bring down the monster her brothers may have seen.

"M-Merida?" Hubert caught up to her long strides.

"Ye are to do as the others. To yer room, now."

"Merida…I'm sorry."

She stopped, her nostrils flaring.

"It is my job to protect us. I can only, _only _do so if I have the right information! Our lands are in peril now, Hubert…something that Mum and Da didn't want to reveal to ye but it is the truth nonetheless. Viking raids take more and more from Dingwall, Macintosh, and MacGuffin with each sailing season. We are furthest inland, but one day they _will _reach our gates and we must be prepared…"

She raised the book to show him.

"If the rumors are true that they are using beasts, monsters…dragons! We could have _used_ this!"

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and he sniffled. She scoffed, running a hand through her curls.

"Wipe yer eyes, Hubert…there are no tears in war."

With that she turned on her heel and began to head towards her room. She needed to be fast—daylight was slipping away by the moment. Looking back down at the journal, she began to analyze the different specs of each dragon and their classes.

If there was one that means more were close behind and it was up to her to protect her family and home.

She bit her lip to try to stomp on the fear building in her chest.

She was brave and she would not fail.

* * *

Toothless landed as gently as possible, the boy rider sliding from the saddle and onto the ground with a wet thump. Grunting, Hiccup rolled over and looked up towards the darkening sky. His leg was bleeding too much and he was fairly certain he would die if it did not clot. Something in him whispered that it hit an artery and there was nothing he could do but hold on to his beloved dragon as the veil of death shrouded him.

All the places he had yet to see. All the islands missed and undiscovered. All the dragons still waiting to show him their secrets.

His eyes slipped closed and when he awoke, it was mostly dark. Toothless hovered over him, his wings surrounding his body and keeping him warm. The bleeding had slowed, but this was most likely due to his heart slowing than any healing.

_'…__come…here!'_

Both Hiccup and his dragon looked over to see a small, blue figure that appeared to be made of dragon fire. It whispered to all of his hopes, his dreams, and it promised all would be rewarded should he merely follow. He began to drag himself towards it with what little strength he had left without thinking of the consequences—he was completely compelled by the tiny flame.

Toothless chittered in panic and attempted to hold Hiccup back. Hiccup, weak, still struggled and fought to follow as he was commanded.

But the wisp was not his. A stooped, shadowed figure appeared from the darkness. She was old, haggard, a staff decorated with a carved bear head pounding into the earth with each step she managed. She shuffled forward, muttering lowly as she made her way through the thick underbrush lit only by the blue flames.

Her hawkish gaze found him in the middle of the circle and she clucked her tongue in annoyance.

She spoke in a strange, lilting language that Hiccup had not heard before. It sounded oddly like Gaelic, but there were no words he could recognize, despite the same cadence and rhythms. She spoke again, demanding answers that he could only reply in his own tongue. When she heard him speak, she perked up before stooping low and gathering pebbles and dirt from the earth. She approached him and Toothless growled in warning, but she had the audacity to laugh at his dragon, the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.

She spoke again before rolling her yellow eyes and showing him her tongue splitting through her pursed lips. Hiccup shook his head in misunderstanding and she did it again. Hiccup followed suit, and she dusted soil onto his outstretched, parched tongue and shoved a small stone in his ear. She muttered words over him while Hiccup coughed and sputtered, now suddenly able to understand her.

"I have a question for ye, boy-o," she winked at him, eyes bright in the darkness.

Toothless growled and pulled Hiccup under him, attempting to push his body completely away from the teetering hag.

"Fine then! If ye _don't_ want to save his life, ye can have his corpse for a snack in a bit."

Her coy smile made Toothless more angry and Hiccup was too weak to lift his arms and soothe the furious beast.

"Oh, enough with you," she pointed her staff and Toothless whimpered, backing away in a manner Hiccup had never seen before.

"Now," she saddled right next to the boy. "My question!"

She grinned with what seemed to Hiccup to be a mouthful of a million sharp teeth. But that was probably just his head spinning. He felt his arms giving out and he leaned into the soft grass beneath him a bit more, unable to keep his head up.

"Wha' all would ye do to save yer life?"

"Anything…" he gasped, "If not for me…for him…"

She hummed thoughtfully, leaning on her staff.

"And ye?"

He didn't feel like she was speaking to him at this point, and he dazed in and out as she seemed to speak to Toothless.

"Well! All settled then," she came back into his vision, his cheek pressed against the plush grass. Her feet were bare, he noticed, and she leaned down to press something into his lips.

He coughed but swallowed, the thick liquid oddly sweet yet acidic at the same time, like the dragon-berries at home. Immediately after he drank the mysterious potion, his body seemed to pulse in beat with his heart, his head pounding with the worst migraine he ever experienced, and his hands and legs twitched as if he was seizing. The world seemed to disappear into white noise before refocusing before returning to white again and again and _again..._

'_Fate be changed,' _she chanted softly as Hiccup began to feel his entire body remake itself.

Vitality returned, strength multiplied.

_'__Look above…'_

His eyesight sharpened and his hearing picked up every little sound that shook the forest around him, all the tiny creatures that skittered along the earthen floor or chirped in the tall tree branches.

_'__To make a bond…'_

His lungs seemed to span for miles and his skin was stronger, harder, more durable than it ever was.

_'Forged in blood.'_

He was more than alive, he realized as he slowly stood and felt the wound on his leg finish sewing itself back together, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was reborn.

Toothless chirruped and cooed, laughing in that warbling call that expressed his pure joy. _Happy _appeared in his mind and Hiccup couldn't help but laugh a little himself as he was washed with layers of _relief. _Toothless leaped and licked Hiccup's face and the same feeling of _happy, happy, happy, _pounded upon him repeatedly. Hiccup held his dragon with both arms and suppressed the pressure behind his eyes as he felt warmed from the hide of his beloved dragon.

"Thank you," he turned to the crone who seemed to wait for the small reunion to end.

"Don't thank me yet, boy-o," she gestured to the two of them, "I can assume ye see yerself changed, yes?"

"Yes," he nodded, breathless.

"Ye are bonded now, ye and this dragon of yers. He loves ye quite dearly, I must say," she reached the long claw of her pinky nail into her ear, twisting back and forth.

She oddly reminded him of a female version of Gobber.

"So he gave ye his life, in a way."

"What? Do-Does that mean that he—that I…? Tell me he won't—!"

"Easy, easy!" She cackled and waved a knobby finger at them both.

"Ye are bonded, so he's with ye now, up here and in here," she tapped her temple then over her heart, "He will always be a part of you, and ye him. He told me that was already so, but now ye are truly connected. Should he die, ye die with him and the other wa'round."

Hiccup sputtered, looking down as Toothless wrapped his wings and tail around his rider's shoulders and legs.

"But…dragons live much longer than humans…will he only live a human's lifetime?"

She shrugged, unconcerned.

"Who knows? Ye're both strong—ye may just meet somewhere in tha' middle."

Hiccup felt a tear roll down his cheek and gently held his dragon as Toothless' feelings nearly overcame him; _relief _surged through him in waves as the dragon realized that his rider would not die so quickly.

"But," the old crone drug out the word, "Ye both are not done here. Ye did say _anything, _ye ken?"

She gestured to the canopy and Hiccup's eyes could immediately find the haunting red miasma of a burning siege and smoke rising from North-East of the stone circle, spiraling high towards the glowing moon.

"Castle Dunbroch is burning, boy-o," she grinned, "An' ye _seem_ ta owe me…"

Toothless and Hiccup turned to the haggard witch with equal agreement that the debt must be repaid.

Whatever she demanded, they would accomplish.

* * *

**DunBroch**

_Several Hours Earlier_

Throwing her door open and the book on her four poster bed, Merida held out her now free hand. Her bow and quiver rose from their place by her hearth and sailed through the air towards her palm. Unlike what the carving Cailleach claimed on their first meeting, wood was a perfect vessel to imbue magical properties, coming second only to metal in which you could literally pound all of your emotions into the material.

Merida strapped her quiver around her waist and slung her bow around her shoulders. She went to her nightstand and withdrew her dagger, the only one that she managed to make well enough to be wielded. It glinted in the fire light, the hammer strikes visible despite her best efforts. Nonetheless, she knew that she had filled it with her strength and stubbornness to the point that it could easily cut through metal armor and into bone and perhaps through dragon hide. She hadn't made a sheath yet, so she slid it next to her quiver and hoped her own magic wouldn't turn against her.

She stepped to the hearth, waving her hand and the appearance of the fire shifted to show her black cauldron. She was lucky, as her mentor had told her, that she excelled in illusions. It would make her life much easier as any who might seek to hurt or destroy her could pass right by without ever knowing she was standing beside them. She tapped the rim of the cauldron and it gurgled to life, bubbling a bright green potion.

"Moira!" Merida called into the slew.

"Oi! Moira, ye ol' hag! Answer me!"

No image appeared before her and Merida groaned loudly and stomped her feet like a child as she quieted the brew and replaced her illusion.

One would think that the princess of Dunbroch would have had plenty of magic after the transformation of her mother and three brothers, but not days afterward she found herself in the forrest being drug to witch's cottage, magically whole and perfect once more. The wisps around her seemed to dance in the wind as she knocked on the door and was ushered in and her training in the craft began.

Merida summoned three riders and directed them to the forrest to seek out the beast her brothers might have seen but prayed and hoped it was a figment of their collective imaginations. She mounted Angus and kicked off towards the wood, her heart hammering in her chest in time to her horses hoofbeats hitting the earth. She directed the other riders away from the stone circle and, thus, Moira's cottage. If anyone could help her peer into the future, if only briefly, it would be the old witch.

A tight pain encircled her chest and squeezed her ribs until she gasped for breath. She was terrified of what could become of her family, her beloved parents and siblings. The Northmen were notorious for their obscene violence, their disgusting torture of any who dared to cross their path. The invasive image of her parents flayed and strung up before a crowd of chuckling Vikings, feeding chunks of her brothers to their demonic beasts, made her gag and nearly fall off Angus.

Merida paused in her path. Things didn't look they were supposed to, and she knew these woods better than most. Turning Angus in a wide circle, she began looking for a landmark that would help direct her in the right direction. Scanning the tree line, she found no marker of her position in the forrest that could help her determine the right path. She yanked on the reigns in growing irritation and Angus scoffed and huffed in her treatment, her hand immediately falling to his flank to pat an apology. She decided to go West, trusting her intuition, and took off at the fastest pace she knew her horse could maintain.

"Come on," she murmured to him, "Come on, come on, _come on_…"

But even after another half hour she was still lost in the wood. Stepping down, Merida let her winded animal rest as she kicked at leaves and groaned into the rapidly setting sun.

"I do'nae understand!" She spat as she looked around her.

She knew this wood. She knew every rock and cranny better than anyone because she spent so much time hiding from her mother here in her youth. In a way, it was more her home than the castle. She turned her route over in her head, thinking about each turn and curve of the path she took.

"Then I should…be…"

With a furious screech, Merida bent down and ripped a handful of grass from the ground and shoved it into her mouth. Chewing the sour, bitter strands for a moment, she spat the slurry into her open palm. With her other hand she spread the spit and grass mixture under her eyes and across her lids. Squeezing her turquoise eyes closed for a moment she huffed out a command, quietly, under her breath as if the trees may reveal her secrets,

"Show me the truth!"

Her magic surged, a warmth reaching her fingertips and spanning across her face that tingled gently and made her sigh with relief. When she looked again at the massive, towering forrest, she spotted a moss covered boulder that showed her she was nearly on the other side of all that she had dared to explore and about as far away from the witch's cottage as she could be. Moira had asked the trees to hide her, had scurried herself away and made it so that no one could seek her out.

The witch knew that something evil was coming.

Merida felt her the skin around her eyes itch and burn but not for the sake of her spell. She had no more time to ask about her fate or her future or even to attempt something mad like expose herself to the castle in a hectic attempt to construct a magical barrier. Rubbing her face, wiping away the magic as well as the desire to sob into the ground, Merida summoned all her strength. Rolling her shoulders and sighing, Merida stomped through the underbrush to find a place to relieve herself before she hopped onto Angus and went back to the castle as quickly as she possibly could.

When Merida peeled back a branch, she saw a small path that broke into bright sunlight. Moving silently, she approached the open area and saw the castle sitting low in the valley to the South. She blinked into the sky and saw a few passing clouds on the far horizon. Past the curved, stooped hills she saw a hoard of men marching towards Dunbroch.

Merida covered her mouth as her heart seized in her chest and she turned on her heel and whistled for Angus. Leaping onto his back, she stabbed her heels into his flanks and they were flying and soaring through the wood. She kept kicking her mount, pushing him further and further, harder and faster. Although her strength was faltering because of her fear, she raised her hands to mouth and spoke magic into her palms.

"Let the wind envy you, Angus," she felt her fingertips tingle and itch, her tongue thick and heavy, her voice raw and high pitched, "Let nothin' match your speed!"

She pressed herself against her beloved friend as she ran her hands up the sides of his long neck. She distantly heard his bellow as her power pummeled them both, blowing back her hair along with the gust of speed that Angus now possessed. Twigs and sticks grasped her dress and hair as they sped past everything in a chaotic blur.

She was screaming before she hit the tree line.

"Vikings! _Vikings headed for the castle!"_

Angus had her from the opening of the forrest to the front gate in less than three minutes. She screamed the entire way there, watching in panic as the sun began to lower.

The cowards always came at night.

She passed through the doors with a sharp command that they be closed and barred. She knew her mother would have her head if—no, when she returned—as she drove Angus through the main entrance of the castle.

_"__Vikings headed for the castle!"_

There was a flurry of movement, of panic and chaos as the staff began to shout and scream in horror.

Merida dismounted Angus and he panted heavily in her ear, dancing away from her touch with wide, frightened eyes. She ignored the hurt that brought her and screamed for Maudie, who ran from the kitchens red-faced and wide eyed.

"Ye take Angus and ye get the boys away from here, d'you understan' me? Listen, ye maddened topsy!"

She shook the sputtering nursemaid.

"They know the secret paths, the way through the wood…do ye hear me, Maudie?! If they die, I swear unto ye," she bared her teeth, "Ye shall be quick to follow!"

The last part came out as a screech, but Maudie nodded and she ran off to collect the young princes and scurry them out of the castle. Angus would be here waiting, and Merida went to collect as many able body males as she could. Still, there were only a handful of warriors around, mainly half-dim palace guards who could barely swing a sword or defend themselves from the wee princes, let alone a full grown viking.

She had the maids raid the armory, which was also mainly empty. But there were a handful of bows and Merida explained the basics of archery to the scullery lasses and the young running boys before she placed them high on the castles walls to shoot downward on attacking men. She took a sword of her fathers from her parent's room, when she stumbled upon a half dried jar of woad which she used to paint her face and neck and the top of her shoulder, shamelessly bared after she ripped her right sleeve off so that she could fire more easily.

When she returned to the hall, the boys were on Angus with Maudie, who was still shaking. Their eyes were wet and bright, and she lifted her chin and gave a half smile to them.

"I will see ye soon, my wee devils," she called them by their beloved nickname, "Have no doubt, I will find ye so stay alive until I come, alright?"

She slapped her mounts behind and he whinnied before rushing out of the open doors, without allowing them to speak and weaken her resolve. They called her name, but it was drowned by the mares hoofbeats and she knew that her magic still pulsed along the horses muscles. She pressed back another wave of tears as she ground the base of her palms into her eye sockets, swallowing stones in her throat, before she turned her attention to the motley crew she had collected for a battle they were sure to lose.

Merida had a decision to make. If they ran, if they hid, just like the princes, the servants and maids and grounds keepers and guards that she had grown up knowing would have a much better chance of survival. But that would mean showing their backs to the enemy, a cowardly retreat that would definitely inspire rage from the Vikings and ensure their ultimate and violent murder to any unfortunate enough to be captured. But, should they choose to fight, many would die, if not from wounds but from shock and battle fear from never having faced something so terrifying.

Her bottom lip quivered, but she stilled it between her teeth.

"We are Clan DunBroch," she spoke loudly, clearly, "We are all that is left and we must defend our home and our land. Our fate lives within us…we just have to be brave enough to _take it!_"

There was no rallying cheer or excited cry, but a quiet, steely resolve. The maids wiped their eyes while the men bowed their heads, prepared to sacrificed themselves and fall at the hands of the approaching hoard. Merida would not sigh in preparation of defeat, however, but dispatched everyone outside of the fortress and up high with the information that should anyone see anything in the sky they were to take cover behind the standing stones of the castle.

Merida climbed to the highest spire, watching as the sun sank below the horizon, winking against the sea like a final wave goodbye. The inhuman cries of the beasts pierced the air in the dark and her heart stuttered only briefly before she raised her bow, her thumb resting just beneath her earlobe and her pointer finger touching the corner of her mouth. She whispered power over her arrow, so that it would pierce any hide or any armor—nothing would stop it but the earth.

Her power was faltering…failing and flailing and slowly seeping away with every bit she took. She may have been studying for years, but these were century learned arts and she was lacking in decades. She had been blessed with good talents and was a quick study when she put her mind to it, but that didn't change the fact that she was new to the craft. It took her years, most of her time spent on this earth, to master her bow the way she had and she knew that it would take her twice her allotted lifetime to become half as well with magic.

But what she knew was this: magic was about intent and she intended very much to save her home.

But at the moment, she had a limited supply of both arrows and magic—and she would use every last modicum until she was empty. Sweat beaded on her brow, despite the fact that there was a wicked wind blowing around Dunbroch, but her hand was steady as her bright eyes sought through the darkness for any incoming target.

"Come on, come on," she murmured, "Give me somethin' to shoot at…"

A blazing light came from below as Vikings seemed to burst from the earth, brandishing torches, banging their plated steel shields with massive iron weapons that burned red in the glow of their fire. Merida immediately fired three arrows, one after the other, moving around the small balcony of the spire. Two collided with the shields, she heard the solid _'thunk' _somehow incredibly loud in the din, but one contacted with flesh and there was a cry of shock from its victim. She shot off more arrows, her mouth forming half-spun spells against the shafts, her projectiles joining a slurry of those shot by the maids and errand boys.

The Vikings began to shout in their heathen, barbaric tongue and Merida began to feel some small hope that the walls would hold and that it would be a simple as driving them back, proving that the work is too much for the gains of the castle.

But that was magical thinking, worse than will-o-wisps, loch monsters, or old Cailleach witches. Maybe it was worse than dragons.

With a terrible screech, a blue blur flew close to the spire, shooting a flurry of spikes in her direction. She ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding being impaled, before she hid back inside the tower and peaked out the window to view the beasts swarming the castle like bees defending a jostled hive. They were in the air, spewing demonic magma on the castle that ignited like no other fire she had seen before.

"How does it_ stick _to _stone_?"

With a grunt and a growl Merida ran down the stairs of the tower connected to the main walls, shouting at the panicked and maddened maids that cowered desperately from the dragons that were swooping like sparrows across a battlefield.

When Merida turned to look behind her, she saw Dunbroch completely aflame.

Gasping, the princess of the burning settlement covered her mouth with shock before she began to cough. Smoke rose in great plumes, stinging her eyes when the wind blew billows toward her face. Great gusts were fanning the monstrous fire along with the dragon wings beating wildly towards the blaze to create a massive inferno that lit up the terrified faces of all the staff around her. Her brain searched for a desperate explanation to the quick blaze, but it lacked understanding that such a massive fire could erupt in so short a time.

Looking at her people, cowering and shaking, she knew that they would all die if she did not lead them away. She had condemned them, she had made the wrong choice, they should have all run. Her pride had endangered them, and now they were being prayed upon by beasts from above.

"Run!" she cried, coughing and crying, over the din of the screeching dragons, ushering the staff of Dunbroch along the thin balcony walls to get back into the castle.

"Wait in the main hall," she told them, "I will come and sneak us out through the underground tunnels, do ye ken?"

They nodded, too fearful to speak and carefully shuffled, staying low and out of the dragons gazes, back into the castle. Merida drew their attention away, waving her arms and firing more arrows, a few she set on fire from the blazes around her. She told all of her would-be soldiers, old and young, to retreat. The dragons continued to spew huge amounts of fire down onto the castle, and Merida knew the blaze would not falter anytime soon.

Castle DunBroch was lost.

The gates heaved below her and suddenly they gave way and a hoard of Vikings poured into the inner grounds. Woman and men screamed in horror as they were seized and slaughtered, Merida forced to watch from above. She swallowed her sobs as she ran to the main hall, intent on saving those that had made it there. The rest were doomed, and their lives hung across her shoulders heavier than any yoke.

She was able to usher most into the cellar and through a hidden grate. She dropped into freezing, shallow water and helped to pull down the twelve women and young boys that she had saved. The men, even those old and teetering, had chosen to stay and sacrifice themselves to the Viking hoard.

Merida swore she would cry for them later.

But for now she had to focus. The tunnels were pitch black and slick, all of them falling and busting knees and palms a number of times as they trudged onward, feeling as they were stuck in the belly of a great monster that was slowly consuming them all. Merida dared not risk fire, not even a torch, and when they stumbled upon the opening in the middle of the wood, she was incredibly glad as their eyes all adjusted to the luminous glow of the waxing gibbous moon.

It was a perfect time to harvest herbs and manifest things you have worked towards.

Merida motioned to her rabble to move forward, her finger over her lips. They kept low to the ground and as silent as they could, despite the crunching of feet across crisp leaves and dry twigs. This was a familiar place and she knew she could lead them away from the violence if everyone could just stay together, if everyone could just stay calm.

A siren wail screamed through the air and Merida ushered everyone to hunker down under the great towering oaks and maples and fir trees. A shot went out through the dark, a purple ball of lightning that struck the earth and uprooted trees with a deafening roar, drowning out the screams of her people as they scattered despite her protests. Earth rained down around her and Merida covered her head as the bodies of her people fled into the darkness and her chest tightened, her breath too short to fill her lungs and clear her head.

Crawling on her hands and knees, the princess of Dunbroch knew that she had lost everything.

The screaming siren came again, and Merida covered her ears and prepared for another shot. The ground exploded not three yards to her left, roots and leaves showering her and the smell of ozone permeated the air. She tried to summon a shield, or a cloaking spell, but her mind was too scattered and torn between worry for her people and worry for herself.

The shots died off, however, and the screaming sound began to move away from her position. Merida, with shaking knees, stood up immediately and went searching and stumbling through the underbrush in a desperate attempt to find some of the castle staff that had run in fear of the attacks.

Whether that was a dragon or some other Viking demon, or even something that had been awoken from Scotland with the tremulous horns of battle and screams of the dying, she wasn't sure. There had been no movement from anywhere, it must have blended with the sky perfectly and it shot lightning and death down from above. The force had shook the very earth and blown up the surrounding area like catapult fire, and if she thought too hard about what would have happened to her fragile flesh and bones should the attacks landed just a bit closer, sour bile rose in her mouth.

_'…__come…here…!'_

The wisps floated to her left and she took off a dead sprint to follow the trail. She was less compelled than she was before, now that she could fend off their magical impulse with some of her own will, but she was still pushed herself to race after them—she ignored the fact that it could have been the adrenaline roaring in her ears.

The wisps lit up a difficult and winding path up steep hills and down into low valleys filled with loose, unpacked earth that had Merida skidding on her hands and knees again that night, but she felt no pain. She was heading away from the castle, the glow of the monstrous flames no longer visible through the tightly packed trees and the din of the raid fading on the wind. Her dress was snagged against every low bush and twigs scraped her face as she passed by, wooden hands reaching out in the night to grab her. As she shot upwards on a steep embankment, climbing with both her feet and fingers digging into the earth, wisps beckoning her onward faster, she stumbled into a clearing.

The wisps ended there, so she turned, listening and searching for the tiny blue beacons that would lead her…well, now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure where they intended to take her. At first she believed that they were taking her to her people, to lead them away to safety and keep them alive through the night. Now, as she ran deeper and deeper into the wood and knowing they were scattered across acres of dangerous landscape, she knew there was no way that she could possibly find them all even with the help of magic.

A shadow passed overhead, blacking out the cold, white moonlight for the briefest moment and Merida turned her head to the navy sky as sweat collected at the base of her spine. She moved, slowly, back under the cover of the trees as she looked to see what had nearly blotted out the fattened moon. There was another swoop, the backlit image of a massive form highlighted for just a moment and Merida knew that it was some kind of dragon—one she knew she needed to escape from.

Her bright, turquoise eyes found the haunting glow of the wisps across the clearing. They beckoned and she nearly pounded her forehead into a tree in frustration. She could attempt to go around, hide within the shadows, but it would be loud and take more time; but if she attempted to run across the clearing and caught the eyes of the dragon above her, she'd be slaughtered.

Kneeling low, hands between bent legs, her foot bounced in anticipation as her eyes jumped between scanning the sky and watching the wisps whisper and motion for her to follow the trail. When the sky was empty for awhile, she bolted—her breath fanning across her cheeks as she panted, her thighs cramping from kneeling for too long, her heart pounding in her chest and eyes glued to the stars.

The form passed, spotted her, and dove.

The same screaming tore through the air, its powerful wings making such a frightful noise as it shot down on her.

"Nightfury! _Get down!_" A voice, male, rang out and she dropped and rolled away.

The beast hit the earth as soon as she popped back up, eying it warily. She and the creature danced, slowly turning around each other and although she worried about the voice that somehow seemed to come from the wood, she would rather take a sword to the back than a burst of dragon fire.

Merida's fingers twitched and she wished she had managed to keep hold of her bow. She raised her palms up, trying to be slow and peaceful.

"Easy," she whispered, keeping the wide, slitted eyes locked with hers. The monster made no move to attack her, but swiveled its round, black head to keep with her.

"Easy, ohhh, aye," she spoke as if she would to Angus, "Aren't you a…a pretty thing…?"

She didn't know what else to say to _a dragon_.

Fat, yellow, slitted eyes watched her. Its head had strange protrusions, rounded like fat, brown-rot mushrooms found on trees and one massive fin that stretched all the way down to a split tail. It had long, but sturdy legs, wide wings that flapped in preparation for flight, and tar colored scales that glinted like polished silver in the moonlight. Sitting back, the dragon's ear-like appendages flexed and swiveled to listen as it's head tipped to the side like one of her father's beloved hunting dogs.

A twig snapped behind them and they both turned their attention to it, the dragon cawing in rage and shooting off another bolt like the one that destroyed a good chunk of the forrest, right by her feet. Merida was thrown, bodily, into the air and she screeched in fear before she hit the ground hard and rolled. A rib was cracked, of that she was sure, and she coughed as she was once again pelted with dirt, leaves and stray grass.

The dragon leapt into the air and shot off into the night, and she watched it go with equal relief and a strange inkling of sorrow. She pushed herself to her elbows, huffing, her chest tight with anxiety and pain, before easing herself to stand. She hobbled, bending, before straightening again with tears clouding her vision.

"Go after it, bud!"

Blinking, she saw the shadows move and bend, a massive figure shooting off into the sky like the other before a smaller character came from the underbrush. It was shaped like a person, but covered in a scaly hide like a beast. Slitted eyes peered at her and a fin tipped what appeared to be a helm, designs decorating the shoulders in a different color bleached by the moon. She glared, backing away slowly, attempting to put distance between them.

"Hey, woah, easy," so it was a man, Merida surmised, as he whispered into the stretching silence.

He took off his helmet, revealing loose, messy hair and big, green eyes. His hands were empty, open, attempting to calm her like she did the dragon. She inched back further and tripped on a rock, falling back and cutting open her palms with a hiss and a curse of pain. The figure immediately moved forward, whether to harm or help she wasn't sure, and when he was nearly atop her, she struck him right where a man's true weakness lies.

He went down harder than a felled tree, and she was up and skirting away from his groaning form and stumbling through the brush. She could only make it so far down a little hill before she had to stop and duck behind another trunk, covering her mouth in attempt to quiet her harsh breathing. Her side ached and groaned with every inhale, and the pain was proving to be a massive distraction.

Putting her head to her knees, Merida attempted to hide within herself. She reached her hands deep into her own soul, digging at the dredges of her power. She had nothing left, she had drained herself completely of all her magic throughout the course of the day and the hectic hours of the evening. Her bow was at the bottom of the pipes somewhere beyond the castle, her arrows scattered across the ups and downs of the forrest floor, her magic whittled away to nothing. She was defenseless and powerless.

Merida's head snapped up as a thought reached out and grabbed her, her hands patting down her belt in search of her knife. Her left hand found the poorly made blade she had constructed and she pulled it free with a swift jerk, the dents clearly made by her lack of skill glinting like the dragon's scales in the moonlight. Holding it between her palms, it hummed with her magic and she rocked back and forth as she gathered enough strength to stand again. She made far too much noise but she hurried anyway, her hands reaching out to every tree trunk to steady herself, knowing that the man in the mask will catch up to her quickly should she tarry.

The blade would pierce more than flesh, she knew. It would easily split hide or armor, no matter the make or material, and she was prepared to use it against any creature that attempted to harm her. She would not go as a prisoner to be ransomed, nor would she be slaughtered in the night like wild game.

Slinking through the wood, she searched for the damn blue monsters that would lead her away from this nightmare. She could not see any, however, nor could she feel the compelling call to follow. So she continued as fast as she could in any direction, her mind racing and skipping in an attempt to find a safe place to hide.

A swift wind hit her hard and she shivered, the early spring still bearing the claws of winter. Her arm was bare where she had cut off her sleeve, the woad nearly gone from all the falls and tumbles she had taken throughout the night. Her dress was split down one side and covered with dirt and grass stains. She could not even bear to think about the state of her hair.

The adrenaline was fading, her side aching more with each faltering step. After going in what appeared to be circles, Merida found the base of a tree and fell against it. Her head pounded painfully, her ribs creaked with her inhalations, and her fingers were stiff from grasping her blade so tightly. She leaned her head back against the tree, promising that she would not fall—

—And then the forest was eclipsed in black.

* * *

**Here's the beginning. **


	3. Chapter Two: Destruction

**I don't own _Brave _or _HTTYD_**

* * *

Chapter Two: Destruction

Hiccup's limp was far more pronounced now as he hunted down the redheaded bitch that he was tasked to help. Annoyance and anger battled for dominance as the man stomped through the forest, following her obvious trail of broken branches and leaves. There wasn't much light slipping between the dense branches of the tree line and Hiccup was incredibly thankful for the new dragon senses he had acquired from his latest _(and hopefully last for awhile)_ brush with death.

The now ex-heir of Berk knew that he was mainly in a state of denial about his almost death—he was instead incredibly focused on finding the princess that was loose in the middle of the forest floor while Toothless' successfully tracked the Nightfury through the sky.

Finally, after nearly six years of searching for another Nightfury, they run into one here, at this time, in this moment—hours after Hiccup nearly slipped into an endless sleep, never to join his ancestors in Valhalla, and the ransack and pillage of DunBroch castle by Vikings with access to dragons. It was incredibly auspicious, if not an unlikely coincidence. Plus the glowing blue monsters floating around in the forest and a hag _Völva_ straight from a saga, it all didn't add up to be just some culmination of fate. Hiccup's mind turned, wondering if someone could have summoned that Nightfury or even the Vikings? Or perhaps they were able to summon both and was it the _Völva_?

Hiccup was a thinker, a tinkerer, a planner—he was always three steps ahead and dealing with things out of his control left him unnerved and edgy. This entire situation had completely demolished his ideas of life and its possibilities and the very thought of starting from scratch made his chest and gut twist like two ropes on a pulley system, cranking tighter and tighter. He had known about dragons, but they were flesh and blood, fire and scaly hide; they did not dabble in _seiðr_ and neither did anyone else on Berk. Even Gothi was a _læknir_, a healer. He was a mechanic, he constructed, fixed and created from metal and wood and physical materials. The idea that someone could merely summon something from the aether, could redefine, realign, reconstruct his body with a bit of soil and fucking _rhyme scheme_ of all things made him want to tear his hair out.

Suddenly the sounds of the evening birds and buzzing insects were _so_ _loud_ in his ears, the moon blinding in the comforting blackness, the entire forest too alive for his heightened senses.

Just when he thought he would start a spiral of madness that would send him to his knees, gasping for breath and half-blind _(there was nothing Astrid hated more than his panic and his anxiety—it was unbecoming of a Viking and more so of a Chief)_, something stilled him from within. _Calm _raced through him, and that same thrumming in the back of his head, like the stirrings of a massive headache, seemed to hum louder. The feeling of weightlessness, muscles moving over the wind currents, the salty air buffeting his face suddenly released the tension in the young man's shoulders, _freedom _filled his lungs, lighter than air.

It was Toothless, their connection, and he was calming his rider just as he always did—through _flight._

For a moment, Hiccup was at a loss, his mind completely halting for the briefest moments. A second later, all his thoughts came tumbling back with double the force, as if making up for lost time. But, despite the mess that was his mind, Hiccup couldn't find it in him to care. He and Toothless had been connected the moment he had shot him down with his bola-thrower and now their souls and minds were intertwined. He had sacrificed himself for Hiccup and may have even shortened his long life for his human companion.

And now there was even another Nightfury somewhere close that may know where more are—where a nest is! And Toothless was closing in fast on the creature, so Hiccup had to find this princess and get her to the _Völva_ in equal time so that they could follow the other offspring of lightning and death together.

"Some men lose a knife in the woods, or maybe a shield at the most, but me, oh, I-I manage to lose an entire princess," he muttered to himself, arms slapping his sides before being placed on his hips as he surveyed the clearing he had burst into from a path of disturbed leaves.

The trail stopped here so unless she managed to sprout wings and soar like a dragon, she was nearby. Hiccup, having thoroughly learned his lesson from before, was less forgiving now—and was on high alert as he began to look around the area.

There. Bright red curls fluttered in the breeze from behind a thick trunk, the strands glinting like bronze under the speckled light from above. Hiccup grasped his sword—he had no desire to use it, he was low on Zippleback gas anyway—but it would give her a shock and him a much needed (_apparently)_ advantage.

"Princess Merida of Dunbroch, Moira sent me to bring you to her," Hiccup stated clearly in the language gifted to him by the old haggard _Völva._ She had warned him that the princess was a force to be reckoned with—_'As fickle as a storm and twice as fierce!' —_and she had suggested that he give her name before his own to mollify the princess' suspicion. Hiccup did not scream Viking, but his visage was not that of a Highlander and it was bound to put her off.

Hiccup switched his weight to his other leg as the ache between them persisted. Thor's beard, did he wish that he had listened to the witch.

The figure did not move.

Having no stealth whatsoever _(thank you for nothing, you useless peg-leg), _Hiccup advanced with his hand firmly gripping his sword. He called her name and title twice more but there was no reaction, which caused him more than some concern. If she had been caught by another Viking and slaughtered before he found her, he would have failed the _Völva_ and she could easily take back the life gifted to him as their agreement would be null and void.

Stepping quickly around the tree, half expecting an ambush, Hiccup found the princess to be still and unmoving. He unsheathed his blade and pressed the flat edge under her nose, watching the gentle fog her breathing made across the pounded Gronkle iron. He released a breath that was stuck in his chest, straightening and replacing his sword in its sheath with a solid _'thunk' _that split the silence of the night. He tensed, expecting her to awaken like a sleeping Monstrous Nightmare and lunge for his throat, but she had fallen deeply into the safety of her mind.

Hiccup's keen eyes, heightened to the darkness, could pick up the smudges of dirt and blood across her high cheekbones and the crackled blue-green paint that spiraled down her shoulder and arm that was now mostly gone. She smelled like icy water and tilled earth and cut grass, her massive amount of curls full of leaves and twigs and mud that caked in various odd places. One hand was by her thigh, palm up and devoid of quite a bit of skin, her knees scratched badly enough that fresh blood still trickled down the one leg, exposed from a long slice up the side of her dress. She had an empty quiver attached to her side but no bow anywhere in sight and an empty sheath for a sword that was probably far too large and heavy for her.

She was not what he expected a princess to be. Admittedly, when Moira had warned him against her temper and violence, he had basically ignored her advice. The very term _princess_ had immediately supplied him of an image of a weak, spoiled brat that expected others to sacrifice themselves for her own safety. When he saw her while atop his dragon, blending into the dark sky, he had expected to see someone cowering, hiding, running—definitely not organizing a defense force _(one that stood no chance, but her effort would have most likely held if there hadn't been dragons)_ or trying to lead the women and children of the castle to safety. He had expected fine clothes, furs, jewels attempted to be smuggled away—not a dress covered with dried dirt and blood, torn at the shoulder to allow her freer movement to fire her bow. He had expected tears and panic and simpering—not quick orders heard over the din of battle and cries of the wounded, her voice as sharp and piercing as her arrows. He had expected something soft, pliant, gentle—not this Valkyrie, with hair that bounced and danced like a live flame and a soul that rivaled a dragon's.

And he most certainly did not expect her to kick him so hard he heard Loki laughing at him from the wind in the trees.

So now he was forced to make a decision: wake the girl and deal with the beast or attempt to carry her across the dangerous terrain and perhaps awaken her halfway there. She'd probably bite him like a Terrible Terror, Hiccup scoffed, hands back on his hips as he thought. And, with his foot, he'd probably drop her into a ditch and really have to deal with it then.

Sighing, Hiccup ran a gloved hand over his face and tried not to pout.

He bent at the waist and grabbed a fairly sturdy branch, about the thickness of his wrist and the length of a Nadder spike. Taking a deep breath, he stretched across the distance between them, keeping himself as far away as possible as he nudged her shoulder gently.

Nothing. Not even a twitch!

Hiccup huffed and tried again, somewhat harder.

Her brows dipped, just a bit.

The dragon rider prayed to Odin for patience as he jabbed her once, _hard, _in the shoulder, throwing the stick away and attempting to look innocent when she gasped and sat up, blinking and sputtering.

She squinted at his form, his hands up as he repeated the message and explained that he meant her no harm.

But Merida, upon seeing the man again, still a threat, was immediately ready for a fight. She lunged, ignoring the pain in her side, her blade at the ready to cut away his false skin to split the weaker flesh beneath. But either he was too fast or she was slowed down by her injury, because he grabbed her wrist and twisted it with a swift yank, disarming her with an ease that infuriated the redhead. She thrashed against his iron grip, and he pinned her against the tree she had rested against to stop her struggling.

"Your Highness! Your Highness!" He shouted in her face but she continued to writhe.

She was panicking, losing herself to the fear that was racing through her blood—she was still out of magic and now disarmed and was most likely going to be raped by this Viking boy before being brought back to the ships where she would face each man, one by one, her body, mind and soul ruined in one fell night, everything gone and lost and no one would know where she was and then she'd be taken to the halls of the Vikings and they'd lock her in a cage and torture her with their damned winged snakes and they would—

"By Thor's hammer, _listen!" _

She paused, breathing coming in quick little pants that fanned across his face.

"Your Highness, Moira sent me to find you."

She shook her head, still unable to think with any clarity.

"You have to calm down," his voice softened, "Look at me, follow me…breathe…"

She was shaking she realized, nearly vibrating in his grip.

"Breathe with me—in and then out—come on, focus, Merida."

Her name got her attention.

"How—how do ye know my name?"

"Moira sent me," he repeated, slowly, quietly, "She's waiting for us."

"Can…can ye get us there?"

He nodded, realizing that she must have gotten turned around in the forest. He moved away, slowly, showing her that she was safe with him. Her eyes were glazed and wide, and for a brief moment he felt true pity for her—he had watched his home burn a thousand times or more from dragon fire, but this was the first time she had witnessed such terror. And the marauders down there had slaughtered any of those that were in their way to get to the precious items hidden in the castle walls, which must have been a massive shock.

But she suddenly glared at him and when he opened his mouth to ask her what he had done now, her leg shot out and kicked at his prosthesis, sending him backwards onto the cold ground.

"What in the name of—!" he sputtered, furiously.

"_That's,_" she spat, "For pokin' me with a stick, ye doaty bawclap!"

"You were _unconscious_—!"

She kicked him again, above the knee.

"Ow! Are you seriously hitting the guy with a _peg-leg_?"

"_That's _for takin' my knife and shoving me up against a damned tree!"

"You were going to _stab me!"_

With a huff, she offered him a hand and he took it, letting her haul him to his feet.

"And _that's_ for everything else," she gave a weak elbow jab to his ribs that he barely felt, "And for yer information, my da has a peg-leg and I went for that too when he tried to kill my mum."

Hiccup, blinking, just decided she was delirious and started leading them towards the odd witch's hut. He wasn't quite sure how he immediately knew the way, but was glad that he did as Merida was still rather out of it. He assumed it was the _Völva's_ magic that led him under branches and over logs, sometimes offering a hand to the princess who decidedly denied him, keeping her arm crossed tightly over her aching ribs. And when he was forced to catch her from sliding down and embankment once, she yanked her arm from his grip with a hiss and kept stomping onward, making Hiccup roll his eyes and follow her in a huff.

When the cottage came into view, Merida hobbled as fast as she was capable down a steep hill and into the valley below. Her boots skidded across the earth and Hiccup struggled to keep apace, his own prosthetic limp squeaking horribly in distress.

Her fist raised to pound on the door but it flew open to reveal the frizzy haired witch, who immediately opened her arms as the girl fell into her surprisingly steady grip.

_'__Ah,' _Hiccup thought with a sigh, _'Here come the tears.'_

But, once again, the princess surprised him, pulling away from the hag's shoulder and began to explain things in a rapid, hushed voice that expressed her urgency. The woman only nodded, shushing her once, and pulled her inside.

"You too, boy-o," she waved her arm, "This concerns ye both."

Hiccup trudged wearily into the cottage, his heart beating just a little faster. The inside of the house was warm, with well-tracked wooden floors that were worn in some spaces, bookshelves filled with scrolls and leather-bound tomes, and high cabinets full of porcelain cups and saucers that were obviously from worlds away. But the most profound thing of the room was the massive, roiling, cast-iron cauldron that seethed with a green potion that set the entire room with an acidic glow. It gurgled loudly and burped fat bubbles that smelled like pine-sap and stiff roots pulled from the earth and Hiccup could not help his curiosity to peer into the brew, despite a part of his mind (_a part most definitely not his own_) warned him against such dangerous things.

But Toothless had warned him away from many deadly things and Hiccup had never listened before—and he had little reason to begin now.

Moira the _Völva _sat the princess down beside a fire and handed her a cup of something that most definitely did not smell like normal tea. She downed the liquid in three big gulps, wincing after each one, before putting the cup down loudly on the table. The witch, with her honey-yellow eyes, puttered around as Merida stood again and demanded that the witch help her turn the raiders away.

"I can'nae do that, my darlin'," Moira told her patiently.

"_Ye _are the strongest witch, ye turned my mum into a _bear, _ye transformed _Mor'du, _there must be something ye can—!"

"I am the only witch you know, lass, how can ye compare me skills?" The old witch snapped, making Merida hesitate.

_"__Together,_ then, we can—!"

"No, lass! Fate has led you here and you must follow where she wants you."

The princess's lip quivered for a moment, turquoise eyes wet and sticky.

"Our fates live within us…" She argued, breathily.

"Aye, my wee darlin', tha' they do," the witch looked down her beaked nose at her worn floor, "'Tis in your blood and bone, stitched into every muscle, laced on every hair, stuck between your toes. You, the lad, meself—even the dragons—we were led here and we must dance to fate's tune."

"Moira," her voice was tight but Hiccup still did not yet see the wet trail of tears, "Tell me what to do…I will sacrifice anything…"

It was then that Hiccup was beginning to see them, their relationship as mistress and student, much as Gobber was to him: the witch and her apprentice. He did not see this girl as a _Völva_ beforehand, but now, in the glow of the cauldron, he saw her for what she was and could be, with her bright eyes and vibrant hair.

"No," her voice crackled, but was firm as an oak tree, "It is done. Ye will listen to me now, both of ye."

Hiccup straightened when her sharp gaze, keener than a hawk, landed on him.

"Ye will leave this land," she ignored Merida's sharp gasp and immediate denial, "For three days. Then ye will return to handle the dead of DunBroch. Then—" she was cut off.

"Wait, wait, wait," Hiccup sputtered, "Do you mean 'you' as in both of us? No, that wasn't the deal!"

"An' just what _was _the deal, boy-o?"

Hiccup's mouth shut with an audible _'snap,' _one pointed finger raised.

"Well-well, the terms of the deal were—Oh, Odin's beard," he ran a hand down his face as he sighed and shook his head at his own stupidity.

_(To be fair, he was _dying_ at the time.)_

"The deal was simple—I offered ye a new life if ye would do me a favor. '_Find and protect the princess,' _tha's what I said, was it not?"

That's exactly what she said, but he assumed that was a one time deal—not something he was going to be held to until he died!

"Well, this is perfect," he groused, running a hand through his hair.

She gave him a half smile, "Should the princess die, our deal is done—and ye _and _yer dragon will both fall with her."

Hiccup took a single step, mouth full of threats but he swallowed them. Rage wasn't the answer, yelling wasn't the right way to handle this and it never really was his style. There was a way into this mess and he'd bet his life _(and he was) _that there was a way out.

"And to break this…deal? This _spell?"_

She chuckled, "I knew I liked ye, boy-o. Ye ask the right questions. The answer is incredibly simple."

Hiccup waited, jaw clenched.

"To break your connection, ye must find the convergence of two saltwater springs."

Hiccup sputtered, his hands gesticulating wildly in frustration.

"That's not possible—salt water doesn't—it's not a thing! That's not how—nature doesn't _do _that!"

Hiccup put his hands on his hips, beginning to pace and think. It was a puzzle, a riddle, and figuring things out was forte, if he ever had one.

Merida was slipping in and out of the conversation, spinning in tight little circles like a caged dragon.

"Wha'? Moira, with him? I don't wan'ta' be stuck with_ him!" _She pointed at the boy, distracted from his planning.

"Hey, remember that time you _kicked my peg-leg out from under me?" _Hiccup snarked back.

"Remember that time I _walloped_ ye in yer _wee baws?_ And as if ye _want'ta'_ be runnin' off with me into the sunset!" She whirled on the hag, "Moira…please, this-_this _is what ye've been trainin' me for!"

The old woman weary eyes stared up at the princess, but still managed to make the younger girl feel incredibly small. Their hands, grasped tightly, were opposites—Merida's smooth skin contrasted against the witch's wrinkles.

"What shall we do, then?"

Her bright eyes lit up and she rushed away to a cabinet where she began to pull down a book and some jars.

"I know ye said I was never to touch yer book, Moira, but I-I-I just did, I do'nae really have a good excuse, but I saw a _spell_ here," she was flipping through the pages furiously, "A _time _spell that could, well…send us back!"

She presented the book to the _Völva, _excitement and victory written clearly across her face.

The witch took the book and scanned the page. Hiccup took a step back, knowing that expression better than most. When the loud slap echoed through the room, Hiccup anticipated his own flinch but could not completely smooth his expression as his gaze fell to the floor as if he himself had been struck, his mouth a firm line.

Merida sputtered, her hand coming to her reddening cheek as her chin wobbled. For the second time that night, Hiccup felt a great pity for the princess and his weak heart could not stop him from taking a step towards her, his mouth moving to say something, maybe to console the redhead, maybe to rebuke the _Völva. _

"Tell me, _ye__r Highness,_" Hiccup winced again at her tone, the disrespect, the mockery, "Wha' might happen should we _go back in time?_"

She bit her lip, teeth digging hard into the chapped, split skin. It brought fresh blood to the surface, Hiccup's sensitive nose able to pick up the acidic tang, sharp against the earthy smell of the potion.

"We-we-I believe…_we_ could _fix this."_

"What's done is done! I thought I taught ye that by now! But, perhaps," her teeth glinted, sharp as knives in the light, "I wasted my time on a _brat_ who never learned her lesson!"

Merida's face blushed a brilliant scarlet and then she was spitting back at the witch, Hiccup moving away into the shadows of the room to avoid the argument.

"Oh, I may be a brat," Merida stomped her foot, "But at the very least I _respect _the magic and don't go selling spells if only someone will_ buy one of my jobby wood carvings!" _

"Oh, reckin' ye'd say tha' with a face like a skelped arse!"

"And _I _never transformed someone without their _consent! _Isn't that—!"

"Did ye not, now?" Her voice was quiet, calm, and Hiccup felt as though he was intruding on something very personal.

Merida recoiled like the witch had pulled a knife, her hands covering her mouth to smother a gasp.

There was silence, only broken by the bubbling of the cauldron. Moira hobbled to her well worn chair, sitting with some effort.

Moira sighed, "Lass…come here, now…"

Merida hesitated, hurt still obvious in her bright red cheeks, a handprint still clearly marked across her left side. She moved despite herself and sat beside the _Völva, _her knees banging loudly on the floor as she knelt. Moira's hand moved her hair, petting it gently.

"Lad, this does'nae concern ye," she seemed to remember him, finally, "Go now, wait for yer dragons…"

He did not have to be told twice.

* * *

Hiccup paced.

_One, two, three, four…_

His foot pounded in sequence with the squeak of his prosthesis' springs, the wind buffeting against his dragon hide armor as he deeply thought about his predicament.

A convergence of saltwater springs.

_Five, six, seven, eight…_

The ocean was the only saltwater body that Hiccup had ever wondered into, _springs_ were always freshwater.

_One, two, three, four…_

Perhaps he could construct something, an aqueduct like he had seen in the short time he and Toothless had spent in Roman territory—he could make the water flow and when they mixed, the spell would break! Then the two humans could easily go their separate ways to accomplish their own deeds.

He didn't mind the princess, if he was honest with himself, but if she was to fall off Toothless and plummet to her death or get attacked or captured, Hiccup and his best friend could die because of her stubborn nature and high-profile status. Sure, she was an excellent shot and also must have the _seiðr _like her mistress but he knew from her reaction to the dragons that she'd never faced the world and all it's monsters. Hiccup had seen beasts of flesh and bone and scale and claw—and all up close.

_Five, six, seven…_

The screech of wings stopped Hiccup's musings. There was a rush of _joy _and _excitement _from Toothless so the young man knew that the dragon could see him but even with his added sensitivity, Hiccup could not spot the dragon in the darkness.

_There! _

Two sets of wings were steady above him, diving downward towards the cabin. Toothless had somehow managed to not only catch up to the other Nightfury, but was also able to convince it to return back to the Scottish forest. Hiccup hoped that the _pride _and _excitement_ that bloomed in his chest was conveyed to his friend.

That was another reason that he had to untie this bond between him and the princess. They had to find more of Toothless' tribe and they couldn't do so if any danger might result in the girl's death, subsequently killing them all. But Hiccup had three days—he would take the princess to an island where they'd hide out for the allotted time the witch had demanded and use those precious moments to construct an apparatus that would mix two swells from the ocean tide and, thus, break the spell between them.

Or, if that should fail, after some time to mourn her losses, the _Völva's _apprentice could undo what her mistress had done.

When the dragon's landed, silent as cats, Hiccup allowed Toothless to come to him so as not to scare the newcomer. His beloved dragon nuzzled his outstretched palms with a coo and purr of _contentment _at seeing him. Hiccup welcomed his friend with a good scratch under the chin, which had the winged creature rolling onto his back with a gurgle of pleasure.

Hiccup couldn't help but laugh at his friend, leaning down to continue his ministrations on his belly. With his hands on him, Hiccup could feel Toothless' emotions even more distinctly. He was _elated. _Not only did he have Hiccup, now for his entire lifetime, but he also had a new friend to continue on their adventurous wanderings over the world.

It was a _she. A female Nightfury. _

Hiccup stood, his eyes finding the other dragon pacing back and forth in agitation. Toothless had used his own power as Alpha to demand that she return with him. It wasn't fair, but both males believed that she could be convinced that neither would harm her and merely desired to know if she had seen any others of her kind.

Hiccup kneeled before her with Toothless behind him. Long ago, dragons shied away from him and growled when he approached, and he learned it was the metal reek of his leg that smelled like a weapon and replaced it with Gronkle iron dipped in Cavern Crasher mucus. Still, it made things easier to hide it from her sharp gaze, so Hiccup tucked it underneath him as he held out his palms towards her.

He could hear Toothless purring and clicking, signaling that the man was harmless, a friend, someone that dragons and humans alike could rely on. Still, she paced, unwavering and unfriendly. Her eyes were as bright as sunspots in the night, staring him down.

Hiccup bet that the only thing that was keeping her from blasting him through the nearest tree was Toothless' power.

"Well, bud," he flashed his friend a grin, "I guess we'll just have to keep trying!"

He always did love a challenge.

* * *

"My darling girl," Merida could feel Moira's magic washing over her, but she was not sure what she was doing. The princess was too weak, her magic all spent and gone and she could not tell just what the witch was planning.

"Fate has taken all from ye, all but yer bravery…"

Her eyes closed to soothe the sting of oncoming tears.

"That song yer mother and ye used to sing…will ye sing it for me?"

"Noble Maiden Fair?" Merida pulled away to look at her sharp eyes, "Why?"

"Because I asked ye to, daffy girl."

"Alright! Alright, fine…"

The memory was sharp, clear and vivid in her mind. The rain, the lightning, the smooth wooden horse in her tiny grip.

_"A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan…"_

Merida's tenuous voice sung out the Scottish Gaelic, the words heavy and thick on her tongue. She was too tired to even wince at her own poor singing, as pitchy and uneven as it was. She knew that Moira had been planning something as soon as she drank her spiked tea. It was full of juniper and barberry, but only to mask the bitter Rowan bark. It was used to increase magical powers, jumpstart a spell, but it could use trigger a kind of transformation.

Merida finished the song with a heavy heart.

"Moira…what are ye doing?"

The old witch sighed. She stood from her chair and went to the wall, where her bear staff rested and picked it up, turning over her own handiwork in her liver-spotted palms and knobby fingers. She motioned for Merida to stand and she did, with some effort from her aching ribs. The aquamarine of the princess met the witch's citrine.

"My brave, wee, Cailleach…"

She came towards Merida and stood about two feet away.

"I wish we had more time…"

"Moira, we do! We can _make more time."_

"Oh, darlin'…nay, we cannot."

The princess went to move forward, but Moira held a palm out to stop her. They stood, face to face, the younger woman searching her teacher's face desperately, but neither her hooked nose or sunken cheeks gave away her intentions.

She banged her staff three times on the floor and the cauldron exploded in smoke. Merida gasped, making to move but her feet would not obey her.

"Moira!"

Her body was obscured by the smoke that filled her lungs and stung her eyes. The green coated everything, filling every crack and crevice. There was a defeated croak of Alec, her old crow, and then a thump as his limp body smacked into the floor.

"_Fate be changed_," she heard the old woman begin to speak.

"Moira, please, stop this!"

Merida erupted into a fit of coughing, tears pouring down her face. The eyes of the bear on Moira's staff gleamed, lifelike, back at her—she gasped again and doubled over from the smoke.

"_The land rejoice,_" the old woman intoned, feeling her magic take root in the younger woman and herself.

"_I break this bond,_" the old witch pounded the floor again three times with her bear-headed staff.

"_With a gift of choice."_

The smoke swirled, focused around the old witch before enveloping Merida in a tight hurricane. It swirled around her, crackling with white flashes of lightning, whipping her already knotted hair up and away from her flushed cheeks. Merida cried out for her mistress, asking for assistance.

Then the magic dissipated into the air as if blown away by a sharp wind. Merida was kneeling on the floor, gasping at the other witch.

The old woman smiled at her, sadness in her eyes.

Eyes that were no longer yellow, but a deep brown.

"What did ye _do?"_ Merida gasped.

"I gave ye my magic," she shrugged, "I am now just as I told ye before: but a wood-carver."

"What?!"

"You will need it far more than I will, lass."

Merida saw the dead crow in the corner. The feathers fluttered from a withered corpse, one that looked months old, not minutes.

"Alec…"

"He lived from my power. With it gone…he could no longer be sustained."

Their eyes locked.

"My princess…Nay, my Queen," Moira bowed just a bit, "I have lived a long life, full of great adventures and dangers. Yers are just beginning and so I give to ye the only gift I can give: all my knowledge and all my power."

Merida could only gape.

"But I must ask ye one last mercy. With the invaders here and now being unable to defend my simple home, I must beseech ye to end my life."

"Moira," her own voice was savage, not even her own, "You daft ol' bitch! I would never, _ever—!"_

But her body was moving without her command of it.

"You-_Ye compelled me?" _

She gave a screech of horror as she retrieved a knife from her kitchen, a cleaver that she had used a thousand times to cut herbs for potions.

She summoned everything Moira had given her—a _massive_ amount of magic—and she channeled it to undo the spell the Cailleach had placed on her. But magic like this could not simply be untangled like a knot, nor cut like a cord—it had to be redirected, or changed in it's objective. Magic was power and power could not merely be destroyed, only changed. This is something that takes time, focus, a clear head and the ability to think objectively.

Things Merida did not have.

"I love ye, my darling girl," Moira smiled as Merida screamed again, fighting against the command with all her might, "I will be with ye, always."

The cleaver split her open, upturned neck. Merida was splashed with an arterial spray and she shrieked again, dropping the blade on the floor and nearly taking her own toes off. Screaming as the body crumpled to the ground, Merida followed to her knees and pounded the wooden floor with her open palm again and again. Tears streamed down her face, hot and heavy, and she grabbed the corpse of her beloved friend and teacher, holding her body close. Moira's open wound gurgled wetly, the cadaver still smiling, eyes open and unseeing for eternity.

Merida screamed and screamed, even using her magic to knit the skin back together, attempting to bring the her back to the living. But the soul was gone to _Tech Duinn_.

_'__Why?' _

Her lips moved, repeating the words over and over, centimeters from the old woman's forehead, but she did not manage a sound other than wordless wails. Time seemed to expand and then contract to merely a few seconds, continually replaying over and over in the young woman's mind. Her dress soaked up the rapidly cooling blood around her as she rocked herself and the body in her arms, muttering and chanting a mixture of old songs and spells that made no sense, not even to her. Her arms and legs cramped, but she continued to sit for what seemed like the stretch of a year crammed into a moment.

Her dull eyes found the glint of her old pendant, still around the Cailleach's neck after all these years. With trembling fingers, Merida took it from her, the metal as cold as the witch's skin. She choked on another sob, tears flowing nonstop to speckle the gray cheeks of her once mistress. Their eyes met, one last time, and Merida closed them, leaving thick red streaks across her lids from her coated fingers.

When she stood, she stumbled and fell back into the red puddle. Her leg was dead after so long without circulation, and she had to drag it towards the door. She had to get outside, leave the reeking smell of the potent smoke that still lingered, mixing with the metallic blood. She knew that the rushing of feeling back to her leg should sting and her ribs should ache, her split lip and raw vocal cords should burn but they didn't—she was utterly numb.

When she managed to throw open the door, she fell again into the dirt. She heard a voice, distantly, as she pressed herself up to her elbows.

"…Highness?"

She fell back down and pressed her cheek into the ground, eyes unfocused. There was a screech from a dragon, but she ignored her surroundings and could not bear to pay attention around her, even as a pair of warm hands reached out to wrap around her arms and lift her.

In her own mind, she was already dead.

* * *

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had faced plenty of horror in his life. He has seen grown men be eaten by massive winged beasts, the same ones that were slowly starving the village with every sheep and yak taken off in the night. He had seen homes burnt to the ground, sometimes children or elderly stuck inside, only charred corpses remaining. He had forged dozens of metal hands and feet in the smithy with Gobber, and dealt with the loss of a limb himself. He had seen violence between men and, after living with dragons, had seen territorial and mate disputes that scattered broken scales across a ten mile radius, shredded wings, sometimes gutting each other. He had witnessed his friends get captured, both man and dragon—locked in small cages and tortured at the hands of hunters. He himself had faced poisoning, burns, cuts and more. He was no stranger to violence and terrible things.

But the painful reality was that Merida of DunBroch had not witnessed such terrible things.

Toothless had reared back at the smell, _fear _rocketing through Hiccup hard enough for him to stop his approach to the young woman. When he grabbed her above the elbows, ready to lift her from the ground and ask her again what had happened inside the cabin, the smell almost made him pull away and drop her.

She was covered in blood.

Panic rocketed through him, his lower back and brow immediately coated in a sheen of sweat. Of course the witch had plotted this, she had used him and his dragon and the princess alike, and now had sacrificed them all to her own schemes. But Merida was not dead, not yet, despite how weak she seemed, and he could save her if he could get her away quickly enough. He had a vial of Deadly Nadder saliva that would cauterize any open wounds and between him and Toothless, nothing would reach her to finish the job.

Getting under her arms, he hauled her to her feet and began running as fast as he could towards Toothless, her limp boots dragging and catching the grass. The dragon reared back, hissing loudly, and Hiccup hissed back in an automatic reaction and catching both parties off guard.

The female blinked at Toothless, both apparently confused.

"Come _on_, bud! If she dies, we die, let's go!"

Still, Toothless backed away from his rider, head low in concern and agitation.

Merida's body seemed to completely lock, making Hiccup drop her. She fell to her knees, facing the cabin with the door still hanging open. Her eyes were an eerily bright blue. The same blue as the haunting, compelling creatures that had called to him at the beginning of this damnable night. Her hands, resting on her knees, flashed the same color—and then the cabin erupted into turquoise flames.

Hiccup was immediately blasted with a great wave of heat and it was only from dealing with dragon fire for most of his life that he immediately knew to block his face and eyes with his arm. The heat was mostly dispersed through his armor, but it was nearly as hot as a Monstrous Nightmare. The princess' hair flew back and danced just like a flame, haunting against her stained dress and the unnatural blue of her magical fire.

Hiccup moved when his dragon shrieked again, taking his helmet from his belt and strapping it across his face before whipping the girl into his grip and racing to Toothless, who was still unsure, but allowed Hiccup to strap them both into the saddle and shoot up and into the sky.

Hiccup turned back to watch the cabin disappear into the forest, the blue like a beacon in the dark. DunBroch was also still aflame some bit ahead of them but there seemed to be no other dragons up other than himself and the female Nightfury. They rose higher and higher still, into the clouds to obscure themselves, just in case any dragon should be close enough to detect them.

Merida began to shiver, despite her silence. The slit up her leg exposed her up to the thigh while straddling the dragon, and her dress was finely made cotton that did little to protect her from the freezing winds. Hiccup, having only a bedroll that was tightly packed away behind them, merely pulled the girl close so that his chest was aligned with her back. He grabbed her hands and tucked them under her arms to keep her fingers from losing feeling or nerve damage before he embraced her tightly. She smelled like blood, but underneath he could smell that same strange earthy scent that was emanating from the potion in the _Völva's _cottage. Her hair was a mass of ringlets and he nearly winced at just how painful it would be to untangle all the knots that were about to occur from their midnight ride.

She was murmuring after some time—it was her language, for sure, but it made little sense. Toothless warbled in concern,_ worry _pounding in the back of his mind, but Hiccup urged him to fly faster. Hiccup hadn't found where her wound was, but they needed to find somewhere to examine her and fast. He wasn't feeling weakened yet, but he wasn't sure just how the spell would work—would he feel the cold hand of death as it crept up on Merida? Or would it reach up and yank him into Hel, without any inclination that the goddess was coming?

"C'mon, bud," Hiccup urged, "Let the wind envy you."

The screech of Nightfury wings echoed in the night.

* * *

Hiccup found a great network of Whispering Death tunnels on a mountainous island far south to Scottland, and although he couldn't help his questioning of their position so far from the Archipelago he thanked the gods for their presence. They were large enough and old enough that he wasn't sure that the herd would return, at least not until later in the season when the weather was much warmer. The group of four parked inside the tunnels, Hiccup dismounting off his dragon and immediately reaching for the princess. He lifted her in a bridal carry, and knelt to deposit her carefully and gently on the ground. She had stopped shivering after awhile during their trip, but he knew that was not due to his partial warmth.

"Your Highness?"

Hiccup took her limp hands and began to warm them between his own, blowing onto her freezing fingers without thinking of the action. Her eyes were dilated and unseeing, making Hiccup realize she was mostly unconscious at this point.

"Your Highness, do you know where you are wounded?"

Her dress was stiff from blood and with this amount Hiccup could only assume a gut wound. He did not smell anything particularly foul, so it was higher up and did not perforate a bowel. He began to gently press around her abdomen, but she only flinched when he was near her ribs.

He leaned back to look at her. The blood dripped down the front of her dress and seemed to collect around her knees and the bottom of the dress. He pressed along her neck and shoulders, but still could not feel any split in her smooth skin.

"Where are you bleeding from?" He muttered, more to himself than her.

He ran his hands up and down her arms before reaching around her back to search, her head leaning heavily against his shoulder. Her breathing was uneven, and he pressed around her ribs for a puncture.

"Is…this…?"

He pulled away with a shout of surprise, standing and backing to the other wall. The blood wasn't hers. It was the _Völva's_—that was the only other option_. _

But Hiccup couldn't understand _why. _Sure, the _Völva _had slapped the princess, but that didn't seem to inspire much rage from the girl, only hurt. And this reaction from her wasn't a murderous one, not even one like the Berserker tribe after a raid, which was often incredibly languorous.

She looked like Ruffnut after an incredibly close call with the dragon hunters. She had been kept hostage for more than three days and when she was finally rescued, she shook and sputtered and could not sit still nor maintain focus for any length of time. She would take Barf and Belch flying at odd hours of the night and barely spoke to anyone, even her brother who was not allowed near her while she healed from the wounds suffered. She did not tell jokes or play pranks, but instead made an altar in the forest for the goddess Eir _(Astrid looked gray when she showed him)_. It took several trips to Gothi with Astrid before she began to act even close to her old self, but even then she never mentioned the horrors she endured.

Perhaps the old woman killed herself and Merida had merely tried to stop her, or held the body close to her.

Either the witch had slit her own throat or the princess had to have done it.

The only reason would have been if the witch had asked or demanded that she do so. It was not unheard of—with the raiders so close, it was assured that she would be found and most likely cut down, despite her distance from DunBroch and the density of the wood around her cabin. They could have seen her skill and take her with them across the sea, but that would have been a worse fate. To ask Merida to have done it would have been a cruel request, something cowardly that he wouldn't have expected from someone so fierce, but it was the only possibility that did not make his new travel partner a murderess.

"Your Highness?"

Her eyes were dull, blank, and did not move when he flashed his palm in front of her face a few times. He called her title twice more before he sat back with a grunt, running his hand through his hair and then pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Wonderful, great, awesome," he huffed, "Think, Haddock, think, think, _think_…"

He didn't remember just what happened after Ruffnut had returned. Astrid had taken over, ushering the other girl away to clean wounds and address her mental state. He had only seen her days after, once she was conscious and speaking again.

_'__What would you do if she was a dragon?' _

It was a sudden, unexpected thought and Hiccup wondered if it was Toothless, their emerald eyes connecting across the area between them. The female remained at the mouth of the cave, her back to the group sitting further in, her tail flicking back and forth in agitation. Toothless licked and smacked his gummy mouth loudly in the silence, and Hiccup sighed.

"I know you're hungry, bud, you both should go and find something to eat. Stay fairly close to the island, okay? I may need you."

Toothless huffed and went toward the other Nightfury, nudging her wing gently. She spat, hissing madly, and then taking off into the night. Toothless looked back to his rider, eyes wide and slightly helpless.

Hiccup shrugged.

The dragon huffed and warbled again before sticking his tongue out at the boy and streaking out behind the female.

"Yeah, no, don't you worry about me! I got _everything_ under control!" He spat sarcastically with a brief wave to the retreating figures.

"Okay, first thing…I need light," he nodded, resolutely to himself, despite feeling incredibly unsure.

Keeping himself close to the mouth of the cave, Hiccup went in search of sticks and enough dry moss and leaves to get a fire started inside the cave. He was trying not to grow frustrated at the situation, unable to keep from muttering angrily to himself as he bent and collected tinder.

"Yeah, _totally_ under control…Unconscious princess! In a cave! Covered in blood!" He threw a rotted twig across the clearing, "By the feathers of Huginn and Muninn, how do I land in these situations?"

Hiccup had been living on his own for two years. He flew from island to island, peninsula to peninsula, finding new dragons and cataloging every place before packing up and finding somewhere else to settle for a few days to a few weeks. He had landed in Ireland for a brief time with little to no problems, but he knew that the Viking's relationship with the Scotts was a tenuous one at best. But, when he finally found himself here, things fell apart within a matter of hours.

Hiccup ran his damp palm across his thigh, where the massive wound had been. He could not feel a scar under his dragon hide armor, the skin perfect and unmarked. Even the blood had disappeared, either sunk deep into the earth where he had lain or somehow resealed back under his skin.

He scoffed before sighing angrily, _'As if by magic…'_

He turned his face to the sky, knowing somehow that the sun was going to be rising behind the cave in a few hours.

Merida hadn't moved much once he reappeared, her head leaning back and eyes lifted towards the ceiling. Her legs were pulled half up to her chest but fallen to the side, one hand placed on the ground and the other was on her leg, closed into a tight fist.

Hiccup got his tinder box and started a small flame that he fed enough to cast a warm glow. He bent to inspect the fallen princess, his hands suspended midair. He kept turning that question over in his mind, _'what would you do if she was a dragon?' _He needed to inspect her more closely and clean her wounds, but that meant that he would have to remove the soiled dress she was wearing and bathe her so as to make sure she did not fall to inflammation and sickness.

He ran his hand through her curls, the ringlets attaching to his fingers.

And then he turned right around and went to the back of the cave to remove his armor. As he habitually unbuckled and unhooked the many straps and belts that held the pieces of his dragon hide chest plate, gauntlets and greaves in place, his mind was spinning in uncertainty. The cool air whipped the thin undershirt and pants he wore underneath his armor, goosebumps rising along his exposed arms. As he placed everything in a neat pile, he puttered around the back of the cave some more, thinking quietly.

Hiccup had been alone, save for Toothless, for a long time. He had not bothered to stop and deal with many humans, save pausing at trading posts for important things, often times doing work at the smithy to make a few coins to buy necessities. But he didn't _connect _with anyone, mostly because he felt no reason or desire to do so—he was happy being alone, content to spend his days and nights riding Toothless through the wide open skies. His dream was to map this world from end to end and then do it twice more. He never wanted to settle, to stop, slow down, or be roped into the various wars between Vikings and the world. He had lost enough because of their selfish, vicious manner and he owed nothing more to them or their enemies. Hiccup only wanted one thing since he tasted flight all those years ago, clutching desperately to the Nighfury's tail, going against everything he had ever believed or known.

He had wanted _freedom. _

And he had _possessed_ it, _grabbed_ it with both hands, given up _everything_ he had known, his safety, his position, his worldly comforts to have it.

And now he was thrown into a massive mess that he had been trying to avoid.

Those dragons were being controlled by something. Since Drago, Viggo and the various hunters Hiccup had encountered over the years, he knew there were quite a few ways to manipulate a dragon's behavior. They were aggressive, but mindless, merely spewing fire on any surface and attacking blindly. If Merida had been able to go toe-to-claw with one of them, she would have most likely won, if what he had witnessed was any indication of her skill.

Hel, if she stood against him, she might win without much of a fuss.

But to be _bound_ to her, to be _stuck_ with her, to have to _watch _her and _take care_ of her and make sure she didn't _die_—

—Hiccup thumped his head against the tunnel.

He cursed quietly and made his way back to her prone form. He crouched, wincing at the sound of his prosthesis squeaking, and sighed.

"Princess, I don't know if you can hear me, which may or may not be a blessing…I'm not good with words, never really have been," he rubbed the back of his neck, "But what happened tonight, well…it's not fair. Not to you or me."

He closed his eyes.

"But…giving up isn't the answer. So I need you to wake up and _work with me_ here."

Still, there was no reaction.

Slowly, hesitantly, Hiccup reached out and grasped her cheek in his palm. He rubbed his thumb over a thick scratch, most likely made from a branch, and tipped her head towards his own.

"Come on, Princess," he murmured, "Time to wake up."

Nothing.

He was losing patience and, more importantly, ideas.

He tapped her cheek, once, twice. She blinked, lazily, her pupils dilating. He did it a few more times, calling to her as he kept eye contact.

"Wake up for me, hey, yeah, come on," he shook her head a bit, "Look at me!"

"I's…you…"

She blinked, lazily, a few more times.

"Yep," Hiccup muttered, "Still me."

Her head lolled, looking around her.

"Where are we?"

"Island, south of Scotland. In a cave," he added, after a moment of consideration.

She adjusted herself, wincing in pain and he resisted the urge to help her, instead moving further away, giving her space to breathe.

"How'd we get here?"

No memory, no recollection—that was concerning.

"We flew. Do you remember what happened before?"

She hesitantly got to her feet, using the wall to support her, Hiccup following her movements, hands outstretched to catch her should she fall back down again.

"We…you-no, I…I was in the cottage with Moira. She…"

She stared down at her hands in horror, her stiff dress and the blood that was now crusted and maroon in color.

"…No…I-I-I couldn't…have! I wouldn't have! No! No, no, _no_!"

Hiccup, seeing her panic, felt entirely out of place and out of his depth.

She screamed then, curling in on herself, tears pouring from her eyes. She began to fall, and Hiccup grabbed at her to make sure she did not harm herself further. She grabbed at him, wailing, and he felt himself grip her tighter as her body convulsed.

"She-she-she…_why?!_ Why would she do thi-this?"

Hiccup wasn't good with words—he wasn't lying beforehand. He was adept at sarcasm and turning situations around to make everything sway in his favor, but he wasn't made to comfort or soothe. So he gently placed one hand in her knotted hair and another around her shoulders as she cried without ceasing.

The smell of ozone filled his nose and he looked up to see Toothless and the female Nightfury land and stalk within the cave, most likely alerted by the heart wrenching scream Merida had emitted.

Sensing something, Merida turned in his grip to see the two dragons behind her. She gasped, jumping back and nearly slipping as she flailed, scratching Hiccup's cheek as he caught her. Toothless, seeing the welt and his wince, hissed and threatened the girl who was trying to get away from the two beings of lightning and death.

"Hey, hey! Easy, everybody, easy!"

She was hyperventilating, and her hands began to glow that eerie blue color. Toothless got low, growling, his own mouth filled with the purple haze of his plasma bolts.

"Toothless! No!" Hiccup held up one palm as the other arm gripped Merida around the waist, putting pressure on her broken rib and making her wheeze in pain.

"You spit that out, right now!"

Toothless, brooding, turned around and shot a stream of lightning outside the cave, hitting a tree and knocking over several others that surrounded it.

Hiccup dropped Merida and she scrambled backward to the side of the cave, sobbing and gasping. Feeling his own pulse racing, he knew that he had to diffuse the situation before it disintegrated into madness and chaos.

"Your Highness," he spoke quietly, "We flew, remember? I don't have wings," he attempted to joke but she merely whined, "So we had to take Toothless, my Nightfury and best friend."

"Ye," she sputtered, "He…that…what?!"

"He won't hurt you, will you, bud?" Toothless warbled in confusion at the interaction, sitting and tilting his head to the side.

The female gazed at the scene from behind Toothless and Hiccup kept a sharp eye on her to make sure that she wouldn't lunge or attempt to frighten the princess even more. However, her bright yellow eyes seemed to be quickly assessing the situation, but remained incredibly calm yet guarded. Any dragon could be dangerous, however, so Hiccup maintained his scrutiny for a moment and her sunlight gaze snapped to him and stared, deeply, critically into him.

She moved, slowly, padding around Toothless, who sat and watched. Hiccup made no move to stop the female Nightfury as she approached the panicking princess, who was about to reach out and command the dragon boy to handle his beasts, when the dragon stopped directly in front of the girl, their faces inches apart.

Hiccup held his breath.

Merida shook.

Toothless blinked.

The female Nightfury, as slow and gentle as if handling a hatchling, extended her tongue—

And licked the girl from chin to brow.

"Ugh!" Merida groaned, scrunching her nose as she wiped at the copious amount of drool that now slid down her cheek.

Hiccup couldn't help the laugh that broke out from his chest, followed by Toothless' echoing chuckle at the scene. The tension between the four seemed to lessen, just a bit, as the female further nudged Merida with her rounded, dark head.

The princess' hands flapped in confusion before gently cupping the dragon's chin as it ran the flat planes of her cheeks all over the girl.

"Wha-what is it doin'?!"

"She's marking territory," Hiccup laughed, "She's claiming you as her own."

As if to prove a point, Toothless trundled up to the boy and, despite his protestations, stood to his full height and enveloped him in his grip to lick and rub his smell into the young man.

"Great, yes, _thank you_, Toothless! Love you, too, bud," Hiccup sighed, "Geez, now we both need a bath."

At the mention of water, Toothless dropped his rider and hopped in excitement.

"Yes! Yes, I said the 'B' word, calm down!"

The female liked the princess. This was good, Hiccup assured himself, it would make things entirely easier to keep them all together while he worked on his machine to combine the ocean streams. Once the spell between them was broken, they could decide what to do—but the female would most likely not want to leave Merida now that she was considered part of her cloud.

That means that he would have to convince her to come with him to find the Nightfury nest.

If there even is one and this female wasn't just an extreme bit of luck that landed into their laps like a sick consolation prize.

"Can-can ye get it _off of me?!"_

Hiccup snapped back to the moment to see that the newcomer was blocking him completely from Merida and Toothless was still excited from hearing the 'B' word, hopping around him and flashing his gums.

"Hey, here, girl! Easy does it with the princess, okay?"

The female turned and bared her teeth at him, hissing and raising her wings to completely block him from getting anywhere near Merida.

Toothless was immediately defensive, his face plates and dorsal fin beginning to shine the same bright violet as his plasma as he gave a great roar. He was commanding her to back down as an Alpha, but she hissed and spat again in refusal, one flat paw raising with claws to knock Hiccup down.

"Stop! Please stop!"

Both dragons lowered at the feminine shriek, their ears lowering in agitation to the noise. The female flipped herself around to focus again on Merida, cooing and clicking in a calming manner as if she was just a hatchling. Perhaps it was because she was alone, perhaps she had a motherly instinct and the human seemed distraught—Hiccup had seen dragons connect and bond with humans over less, but the need to protect was strong in the female Nightfury and that would be to his advantage.

"Come on, girl," Hiccup tried again, murmuring low, "She needs my help and you know it."

The female swiveled her head, apparently listening. She did not make eye contact as she moved away, closer now but still away from the two males.

The human girl was completely curled up, her hands over her head as she cried again. It had been a long night, Hiccup sighed, ruffling the back of his hair.

By Thor, it had been a _very _long night.

"Your Highness," he didn't approach, letting her breathe, "You need to be treated. Your dress is soaked in blood, you are covered in scratches, and you have a cracked or broken rib. Let me help you."

"I don't even _know _ye," she spat, that bright furious light back in her eyes, "Ye're just another _Viking!_"

"I was from a Viking tribe, yes, but I left them, mostly to avoid all of…well, what happened back there," Hiccup shrugged, lacking the energy for guile, "And my name is Hiccup. Hiccup Haddock."

"Hiccup? Like…?"

"Yes," he deadpanned.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her one sleeve.

"I'm Merida."

"I know."

She winced.

There was a tense silence between them, growing more heavy by the moment. He watched her mind turn, the ideas so blatant across her face he felt as though they were written in Runic across her crinkled brow. She was so expressive, so volatile, so passionate and unforgiving and colorful that he could not help his comparison to her as a Monstrous Nightmare. Honestly, she was about as temperamental as Hookfang, and her hair seemed just like his unfortunate habit of setting himself on fire.

But she was also _painfully _obvious.

When she bolted, he was already moving, arms outstretched and grasping. There was a succession of hissing and snapping of jaws as the two dragons faced off, so he focused on wrestling with the powerhouse of a woman. She shrieked and he grunted, trying to avoid her injured rib as he wrapped his arms around her and slammed her back against the side of the cave.

Her head hit the stone with a wet _'smack' _and Hiccup gasped, reaching around to check the already forming lump that was growing on her skull. He sighed when he discovered she wasn't bleeding, but froze when he realized that she was tucked so tightly into his grip.

She took advantage of his sudden nearness, despite her spinning head, and once again went for his prosthetic leg—sweeping it out from under him and attempting to run. He fell to his knee with another loud grunt of annoyance, already aching as his weight landed into the joint.

But Hiccup would not fall for the same trick twice, reaching out and grasping her ankle as she attempted to escape. Merida went down quick and hard, hitting her forehead and splitting the soft skin on a rock. There was another distant roar when she lifted herself, blood streaking down her face as she reached back and kicked at Hiccup's relentless grip. She got him in the nose with a wicked _'crunch' _and he spat a great curse as he let her go.

She got to her feet and both she and the female Nightfury began to race for the mouth of the cave, the dragon's tail whipping out to stop her from slipping and harming herself further in the soft soil. Not trusting the dragons nor the boy, Merida jumped the fin and began to race away from the cave.

She had to get away. She _had_ to—her brothers and her people were depending on her and she had to get back to DunBroch. She would worry about facing the dangers of the open ocean once she was away from that Viking and his accursed beasts!

When he landed in front of her astride the other dragon's back, she shrieked again and panted as her mind twisted to plan a way around him. Twin smears of blood ran down his lip and chin from where she had kicked him and the two humans circled each other as the dragons mimicked their movements behind their respective person.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Hiccup spat a wad of blood to the ground, "But I might just be tempted if you keep this up."

"Oh, really, now? I'd like to see ye try, Viking!"

"Look," Hiccup withdrew a strange blade, looking oddly like the outline of a sword but missing the inside, "You're weaponless, injured, and currently facing off against a trained dragon and rider. You have no chance, so why don't you just _listen _and we can sort this all out back in the cave next to the fire with some food?"

"Like _hell _I'd break bread with ye!"

He sighed, looking as exhausted as she felt, "Fine."

He pressed something on the blade's hilt, she heard a small _'click' _and it burst into flame.

Next to the dancing light of his sword, blood across his mouth, he really did look like a monster that ate children at night.

But she had magic now—powerful magic.

She felt it fill her, appearing to her summons without nearly as much effort as it usually took. She knew this was due to Moira, her sacrifice, her death, her transference of magic unto her apprentice. Her hands flashed a brilliant blue, as blue as the will-o-wisps, and although she could not see it, her eyes glowed the same color as it seemed to fill the outline of her massive amount of curls, hackles raised like a crimson wild cat.

Hiccup scowled. This was not what he wanted to happen, honestly he thought the whole "running off in a panic" was over after everything before. And he expected her to falter with Inferno, but again she refused to back down and now things are beginning to escalate and may end in more bloodshed than his nose and her head.

And the dragons were facing off, which could result in everyone getting hurt if a stray plasma bolt should hit someone. Or, if Merida was struck, only the female Nightfury would remain amongst them.

Hiccup liked to find the answer least expected, the option rarely taken. It had served him well all his life and it would serve him well once more. As his heightened eyes took in the scenery, he suppressed a smirk.

He had one shot and he hoped that Toothless could handle the female without too much damage to the landscape and themselves.

The princess sent a massive rock in his direction, not lifted by her hands but by her _seiðr._

Hiccup jumped and rolled, all the while pouring the remainder of his Zippleback gas into the area to blind her. He heard her frustrated growl and couldn't help but laugh a bit and shake his head as he lit it.

The flash bomb and explosion took both her and the other Nightfury off-guard. He saw her rubbing her bright, glowing eyes in agitation as he rushed her and grabbed her around the waist, throwing her over his shoulder as he ran past the distracted yellow-eyed dragon and through the thicket, throwing both of them into the pond behind the tree line.

They hit the freezing water with matching gasps, sinking briefly before kicking to reach the surface. Merida's dress and corset filled with water and her ascension was short lived as she was pulled back down by the weight. She could normally take the pull of her clothes in the water, as she had often been knocked in due to her playful and adventurous lifestyle, but her injured rib and exhaustion made it impossible and the cold made her tired muscles seize.

Hiccup rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the arm before hauling her to a nearby rock where she coughed up a few mouthfuls of pond water.

"So," Hiccup sighed, "I believe we've handled this, but just to be clear—no more running, got it?"

She nodded, her teeth chattering.

"I-I ha-hate ye-ou!"

"Fair enough," Hiccup himself found the frigid water refreshing, but he was used to much colder temperatures.

He shrugged and pulled himself to sit on the rock and whistled for Toothless. The dragons watched the two humans with interest, approaching the couple in the water. Their annoyance for each other really seemed to stem between the issues between Merida and Hiccup, and although the female still kept her distance, she did not appear to be aggressive towards the male until her space was invaded.

"Give the princess some warm water, eh, bud?"

Merida covered her eyes as Toothless shot a stream of powerful, concentrated plasma into the pond and had it near boiling hot in just a few minutes. She gasped, sinking back into the water briefly before scrambling back onto the rock a bit more.

"Might as well shuck the gown, Your Highness. It's ruined anyway and I don't think you can keep holding onto all that extra weight."

She glared at him, her lip curling in disgust.

"So ye can take a glance at me, as naked and defenseless as a bairn? Ye're out of your mind!"

"I don't know what a barn has to do with the situation, but," he leaned over to give her a lopsided grin, "You just showed your last card, Princess—we both know that you are the furthest thing from defenseless."

She slapped the water with a grunt, eyes flashing that aquamarine glow as she nearly slid back into the pond.

"Unless your magic can fix your dress, I suggest you do yourself a favor and ditch it."

She scrambled on her perch again, her muscles starting to shake and give way.

"Oh, damnit all! I can't take it off on my own, ye troll!"

Hiccup sputtered and blushed, nearly falling from his own perch as all of his false bravado fell out in a rush of breath. He hadn't expected that. What sense did it make to wear things that you couldn't put yourself in or take yourself out of? That seemed like a fatal flaw in the culture, if you asked him. But, he supposed, they didn't have to wake up in the middle of the night to defend themselves from raids and attacks, especially the women.

And no one had bothered to ask him about couture in Scotland, but Merida was in need of his help. Toothless was splashing around happily behind her, warbling in pleasure at the water, while the female was hanging upside down above the pond as she awaited the quickly rising sun that was beginning to poke through the trees.

He had to help her undress.

Blessed Norns, _why _did none of his plans pan out the way he wanted?

He fell back into the water, grabbing her by the arm and moving them both towards the bank so that they could stand in the soft, sinking mud. He turned her around and watched her shoulders tense as his hands brushed her somehow intact curls to the side.

There had to be a dozen laces or more for the outermost dress.

Hiccup hesitated, seeing her shaking now out of fear instead of cold.

"I meant what I said before: I don't want to hurt you."

"Ye said ye were starting to consider it," she snapped back over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well, you aren't the easiest charge. You nearly broke my nose."

"Ye tripped me!"

"You kicked my peg-leg! _Twice!_"

"Yeah, well, yer beastie almost mauled me!"

"She was giving you the equivalent of a kiss and a hug," Hiccup chuckled, "And then she defended you! And look how close she is! She claimed you and wants to protect you."

Her voice was softer now, "What does tha' mean?"

"It means," his fingers started to deftly undo the laces along the back of her ruined gown, "You are incredibly lucky to have the love and trust of a Nightfury. One that you have yet to earn but this one seems to feel that you are worthy of."

She was quiet for a long moment, the only sound between them was the gentle splashing as Hiccup carefully undressed the woman before him.

"I didn't want to…I did'nae _want _to kill her…"

His hands nearly slipped, but he yanked the cord from the last few holes and threw it to the bank. He began to pull at the outer dress to reveal the thin shift beneath. It was, unfortunately, also stained and torn at the bottom and he moved away, climbing from the water and sitting on a nearby boulder to remove his prosthetic leg and the now-wet bandages.

She moved deeper into the water, hiding herself from him before she took off the shift and threw it next to her dress. She thanked the gods that she had breast coverings and small skirt around her hips, but it was all together inappropriate for a man that wasn't her husband _(he was her enemy, for Mor'du's sake!) _to see her in such a state. His dragon was still paddling around happily in the water, sometimes adding more of his strange, purple fire to keep it warm.

"So," Hiccup began to break and toss twigs into the wood behind them, "Why'd you kill her if you didn't want to?"

Merida leaned against another stone, watching a tadpole sprouting back legs swim by her.

"Witches can weave a…a net of sorts, around someone, if we are close enough and strong enough. It's called a _compellin_'—and 'tis a terrible thing to do. It takes away all right to the body, commands someone to obey the orders given to them, despite being still able to recognize and witness all of the horrible acts they are forced to commit."

Tears slipped from her eyes and into the pond. She ducked her head under the still water a few times, her fingers deftly untangling various knots and removing twigs and leaves and roots and rocks from her long hair, now sodden and heavy.

"Moira gave her magic to me…"

Hiccup could have _(should have) _guessed that, seeing how powerful she was despite not bothering to summon anything against him the last time they fought. That and her little display at the cottage, causing the entire building to violently erupt with a flick of her hands, should have tipped him off.

He wrung the water from the bandages he had unwrapped from his stump, the horrid, scarred thing a painful reminder to him in the slowly rising sun.

"So…she could'nae protect herself against the invaders…So she made me slit her throat and with that sacrifice, surrendered everything to me…"

There was silence.

Hiccup sighed, unsure as to rub the ache from his brow or his leg.

"That was a cowardly and cruel thing to do."

Her eyes were towards the brightening sky, her tears glistening in the weak sunlight.

"Aye."

And that would have to do for now.

* * *

**Chapter 2 down. **


	4. Chapter Three: Unknown

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD_**

* * *

Chapter Three: Unknown

**Berk**

The leader of Berk watched as Astrid directed a new group of dragon riders in drills. The Ingerman child, Fishlegs, was nearby and showing even younger children each species and some of their important details in Hiccup's and his _Book of Dragons_. There were over fourteen children currently in the ring, an amazing number, considering that most young ones were killed in dragon attacks, fires, or starvation. The last seven years had made such a difference to the village that the population was beginning to see an upturn, one that hadn't been witnessed in decades.

Valka was in the air with older students as well, teaching them to walk amongst the clouds. She taught them to stitch holes in wings, rub salves on scaleless areas, set broken bones and teach dragons that were downed or permanently damaged to live with such changes. She took to them naturally, keeping close to Hiccup's friends as if somehow it would keep him close as well. Although she had been away for so many years and Hiccup was most certainly alive somewhere with his beloved Nightfury, Valka mourned as if she had lost the boy.

The thought of his son made his heart ache and he instinctually lifted his gaze to the horizon. It had been over six months since his heir had returned to the village of his birth and last time he had stayed less than a week due to his postering and harassing him about reclaiming his title as chief.

Stoick had lost a wife, had floundered and swallowed his sorrow with tankards and barrels of grog. He had regained a wife and had spent time basking in her pleasant company, learning to love again, trust again, _feel again. _At least more than contentment or annoyance, but when he found Valka alive, the world flashed in color for the first time in over a decade.

But then they both seemed to lose a son and neither one of them could really seem to get over it, neither together or alone.

Valka, despite not knowing the extent of the story, blamed Stoick for not watching out for Hiccup more. She didn't understand that Hiccup could not be watched after, not when he had a village to feed! Gobber had watched him for most of his formative years and he never bothered to think about his various scratches and bruises across his brow or knuckles, believing that his status as the son of the chief would protect him from angry villagers.

But, now that he looked back, he realized that he was just too lazy and even vindictive—when Hiccup burned down houses and chased dragons, endangering even more lives, he felt that he deserved such harsh treatment.

Stoick hurt and his son hurt, certainly that was fair. They were Vikings—pain was not "an occupational hazard," as his son used to claim; pain was a way of life. Every part of their world was difficult and that was long before the dragons showed up! Between the bitter winters, the scarce crops and poor soil, the disease and infections, raids and invasions from other clans, with dragons all on top of it, it's a miracle that anyone had survived on this accursed island.

But now there is nothing he regrets more than his own actions, perhaps believing that if things had been just a bit different, Hiccup would have remained here, with them, and they could have been a family once more. If he had felt more accepted, if his peers and their parents had not shunned and mocked him, if he had simply put in a little more effort, Hiccup would have been better protected and felt more at home on Berk.

But what scares him the most, more than anything, is that it truly was his fault, just as Valka believed it to be. That Stoick had not bothered to ever listen to the boy, not until he was practically a man, and when he finally heard him, he disowned him. Hiccup had claimed that he forgave him, that all was well between the two Haddock males, but Stoick could never quite forget the betrayal in his son's eyes the night he proclaimed him nameless and without heritage.

If Stoick had protected him, if he had built their connection and kept Hiccup close, treated him as his true son—perhaps, indeed, things would be different.

Stoick the Vast, Chief of Berk and the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, peered out over the oceans that surrounded his home since birth, and his father's home since his birth and his grandfather's home for most of his life. He watched the children, the dragons, the well-fed and happy adults that paraded through town with baskets and wheelbarrows instead of axes and shields, happy and at peace instead of wary and exhausted from the previous midnight raid and expecting the next.

Stoick and the Hofferson girl made eye contact and she nodded, placing her arm across her chest in greeting and respect before going back to critiquing the younger riders.

She would most likely take his place. There was no one as fierce as she, no one more dedicated to Berk—she had spent even her youngest years attempting to save those around her. Even as a child she would bandage wounds, fetch pails of water, and hide the downed bodies from the same dragons that now fed and stayed amongst them.

The fact that Hiccup had once loved her meant nothing. There was a small, hopeful part of him that believed, perhaps, if he saw her as head of the clan he would return and marry her properly. But even he doubted such foolish ideas. Hiccup was made to be free, something that Stoick should have seen when he was a lad, looking under rocks to collect snails to attract trolls and running into streams, never worrying about what may be lurking ahead or behind him, embracing each precious second under the sun.

Hiccup was his only child, but for so long he acted as though he never had a son. He hid away from the infant, far too reminded of Valka and her supposed death to hold the babe, to soothe away his fears and fevers, to rock him to sleep or offer him yak milk. Other men and women, such as Gobber and Gothi, took care of his child for many years. He did not witness his first words, nor cared about his first steps. He had not presented him with his first blade, or taught him how to swing it—he was too sore from a wound that never seemed to heal until he found his Valka again.

And now both are left wounded, another gaping, seething, pulsating hole that could not be filled—because he was once again, childless.

So he mourned.

The loss of his son, his wife, and even parts of himself.

* * *

**Unnamed Island, South of DunBroch**

She had to remove everything, much to her _(and his) _horror. As the rosy dawn grew into a cloudy morning, the two tried to find an easier pace between them. He gave her his only spare shirt and pants at the moment, only a little threadbare, and his long cloak while the only clothing she had dried in the quickly rising sun.

While she changed out of her soaked clothing behind a cluster of tall trees, Hiccup sat some ways away but close enough to hear her rushing feet through the brush should she try to run. But, _(damn it all and damn him especially!)_ she was far too tired to even begin to plan some farfetched escape. So she slipped on his shirt and pants, refusing to acknowledge how horrified her mother would be to see her wearing not only mens' clothing, but _borrowed _mens' clothing.

The tunic hung, long and loose around her shoulders, not made for the female form. The pants were also ill-fitting, loose around her smaller calves but tight around her thighs and hips. She rolled them to rest below her knees, giving her scratches and still oozing wounds a chance to heal. The cloak warmed her considerably, once it was firmly latched at her throat, and it concealed her legs as well, which made her more comfortable. Although the range of movement was spectacular, she felt somewhat exposed in front of the Viking youth.

She had never once considered that the _Vikings _of all people were progressive, especially considering on the ideas of _fairer sex. _But her father had once, when pressed, told a less gallant tale about some of the Viking invasions he had faced before being crowned king by the other Lairds. He was roaring, a maddened, whiskey drunk that turned his face as red as her hair. He spoke, briefly, of a berserker on a bridge that took on over a dozen men—and how shocked they were, that when the helmet and breastplate were removed, to find a woman beneath the furs and armor. Her da, then, horrified and raving in a near state of insanity, had cried and admitted that he himself had run her clean through with a long spear.

But Merida had admired the thought of that woman—whoever she was—that she was not ever seen as a woman, but as a soldier, a Viking. She was more than her sex, her ability to produce heirs and bairns, but another flashing sword, another shield in a wall of many, all used to defend those that she cared about. Merida had felt guilty that night, thinking of her father's tears, but practiced swinging her own dirk in the middle of her four-poster bed, playing pretend that _she _was defending that very same bridge, fearless, strong, and deadly.

The dragon boy—no, she amended—he was called Hiccup. It was an odd name, to be sure, but it wasn't the strangest she heard. The Vikings all had exotic and descriptive epithets, so she supposed she was glad he was not entitled Hiccup the Maddened or Hiccup the Horrendous. Then again, she knew little about him, so he could be a maddened or violent or one of the famous berserkers.

But, despite their fighting, he only strove to contain her.

She bit her lip, running her fingers between her curls absentmindedly, undoing knots as she went with practiced ease.

He did not _seem_ dangerous—well, he did not attempt to rape her or even take advantage of her state of dress, the dragons were another matter. She had seen his frightened blush and noticed his concern when the one dragon approached, as if he could stop it. He worried about her wounds, he tried to help her, he brought her here, away from the witch's body and the burning castle. Yes, Moira had bound their lives together, had somehow twisted her fate around his, but that meant little—he could still be cruel or careless as long as he did not kill her.

But she knew from the way he played with the beasties, those horrifying creatures that flocked to him, that he was naturally and inherently _soft. _He was a _gentle_ creature, quiet, Hell, even _refined. _He did not have a natural violent bone in him, but that did not mean that he could not be _driven _to violence. During their last fight, she had seen his green eyes flash like the gem in her mother's diadem and for the briefest moment, even full of magic, she was frightened by him. Then he spewed smoke, acid green and so similar to her own bubbling cauldrons that she could scarcely breathe or move as it filled her vision and then it _exploded _right before her eyes. In that moment, through the haze, she could have sworn she saw the bright flash of his feral grin as the dim rising sun cut through the gas.

She heard the Cailleach's words in her mind.

_'__The convergence of two saltwater springs…'_

Every riddle was easy on the outside looking in, but the spell wasn't something that she could simply undo, like untying a silk bow. She could examine what her mistress had weaved but that did not assure that, even with her magic, that she could fix anything. But if Hiccup had agreed to the deal, it was tied in blood and could only be broken in the same way.

Merida shifted her weight in thought and nearly fell to her knees. Her ankle throbbed, along with both her knees, and she realized she probably twisted the joint at some point. Her shins burned and, by God, did her rib ache. Her forehead still bled sluggishly and her hands were incredibly raw. Everything hurt, outside and inside, and her display in the forrest had done little but sap all her energy. She could try to heal herself tomorrow, but for now she would accept this part of her fate that was connected to the dragon boy—Hiccup.

So she carefully and slowly walked through the brush towards the group. Hiccup had removed his wooden leg, but replaced the bandages over the scarred end of his brutalized leg. Although she wondered if that was for her, she decided to make no comment as she approached. The golden eyed dragon was still hanging upside down on a branch, but she saw the glint of one reflective iris flashing at her from under a folded wing.

"I'm ready," she murmured in the quiet morning.

The boy only nodded, sliding off the rock and hopping awkwardly to his dragon, who bent low to allow him easy access to his back. He gave a gesture and she came close to him, hesitating.

"Umm…"

Hiccup groaned, motioning to his front, "_Please,_ for the love of Thor, just _get on the dragon."_

"Fine, fine! No need'ta snap!"

She ran her hand along its neck, as smooth as a river stone. He made a warm, echoing garble. She braced herself before she threw her leg across him and settled between the boy's legs.

Before Merida even had a moment to consider how much skin was showing in front of him, the dragon was up in the air. She swallowed a shout, her hands reaching to grab the horn and pommel of the saddle, thankfully the same as her own placed on Angus. Her stomach jumped to her throat, and a laugh seemed to wheeze out of her chest, the sky suddenly so incredibly close before they landed back in front of the cave. Merida pushed her curls out of her face, suddenly exhilarated from just that brief jump.

"Ye said we flew here?" It tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"Yep," Hiccup dismounted and began to carefully limp inside.

"I jus'…do'nae remember is all…"

"You were unconscious, so…" he turned to her with a shrug, seeing her looking at Toothless with a bit of awe.

He smiled and chuckled, shaking his head.

"Now you see how amazing he is? Figures, worked with Astrid," He scoffed a bit, muttering to himself before calling out, "We'll fly some tomorrow. For now, let's go to bed, it's been a long night."

She gave a long suffering sigh but agreed and began to follow them inside the cave. There was a thump, making the other three figures look back to see the female Nightfury land, sauntering past all of them. She warmed a rock with her violet fire and settled down, popping one eye at them when they did not immediately follow her in.

Hiccup sighed tiredly before letting Toothless lead him, his scaly friend pausing in concern as he passed the female, expecting a hiss or a snap in his direction, but receiving none. Hiccup set up his bedroll, going to offer the princess his blanket but she had already curled up against the wall with the hood pulled around her head and was fast asleep.

Hiccup curled up on the ground and followed her into oblivion.

* * *

_'__Oh,' _Hiccup groaned as he stretched, _'I am hurt, I am very much hurt…'_

Everything ached, more so than usual. His back, his neck, his shoulders and thighs, his stump and head all throbbed in tandem. Getting to his elbows _(Yeah, they hurt, too)_, he saw that the sun was just starting to set and they had managed to sleep through most of the day. This didn't bother Hiccup too much—considering his dragon was naturally nocturnal, he often spent the days sleeping and the nights flying because it was so much easier for Toothless.

Shifting, slowly, he sat up. He reached for his prosthetic, attaching the straps and belts with only a few grunts of displeasure and pain. With a hiss from both himself and the metal spring, he rose to his "feet." The princess had fallen over in the night, now facing the wall, and the female Nightfury has also come further inside, her nose pointed towards the girl. She had one eye just barely open to reveal a sliver of her bright iris, watching as he moved around their temporary home.

"I guess we need to name you, huh? Can't just keep calling you, well, 'you' or 'the female.' That's not right," he spoke aloud to himself, so used to being alone with Toothless and other dragons that he didn't think twice about it, "I'll start thinking of some options," the dragon huffed, seemingly displeased and Hiccup shrugged, rambling off a few off the top of his head.

The princess, however, groaned at the noise and he gave a bit of a wince and a soft apology for nearly waking her. She rolled, revealing dried blood caked along her brow where her forehead had begun to bleed again while she slept, blinking sleepy eyes before jerking up in panic and crying out in pain as she strained her ribs.

"Fuckin' hell!" She spat, leaning back against the cavern wall.

The female warbled, cooing softly as she used her back legs to slide herself forward, her head and chest never leaving the floor and scooted next to the princess' leg. Then, quickly, she hoisted herself up and landed in her lap with a huff, the girl giving a squeak of shock and fear, her hands flapping.

"Och," she huffed, "Ye're worse than my da's huntin' dogs, ye are…"

There was more rumblings and Merida began to gently stroke the wide, fat planes of her face.

"Damn wee beastie…"

Hiccup chuckled, and she looked up at him with a fierce glare.

"What're ye lookin' at, dragon-boy?"

He shrugged, "Looks like you've found yourself a new friend, Your Highness."

She wrinkled her nose at him, rubbing at her forehead where the gore had crusted over, flakes falling off in her fingers.

"_'__Your Highness,'_" she mocked, "Highness of what, now? DunBroch is but ash, I am a princess no more…"

"I think you'll be surprised to find that the castle will be raided but fairly intact, dragon fire is great on wood and straw huts but stone and mortar? Not so much," Hiccup was digging around in his pack, producing a medical kit of sorts.

"But my people…scattered to the wind or cut down like hay…" Tears slipped from her already red-rimmed eyes, "I failed them…"

"You're giving yourself _way _too much credit," Hiccup scoffed, rummaging for bandages in the bottom of his pack. He knew he had some somewhere, but where in the name of Thor did he put them?

He didn't notice her furious glare.

"I mean, let's be honest," he was still looking and he only had one bag, "You were working with, what? About twenty-five scullery maids, errand boys, and stable hands?" He scoffed, "All of which had never before last night seen a dragon, let alone fought with them? Come on, you had no chance."

"Well-well! At least I _tried _to save them and DunBroch! I _tried _to save my people! I even _tried _to get Moira to help me fix it! Despite the consequences!"

Hiccup, realizing his mouth had run away with him, attempted to apologize when she cut him off again. She was on her feet, although she was unsteady, spitting and hissing no better than a furious Terrible Terror.

Her hands flapped like wings, her eyes bulged and she stomped her feet while she barred her teeth. The female was up, Toothless following suit, watching as she paced around the quiet fire.

"And I was willing to die for them! For DunBroch! I wouldn't have-I shouldn't have-why did I leave them?" Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around herself, tugging at the edge of the cloak as she sniffled loudly.

"Hey, hey, woah," Hiccup held up his palms in a placating gesture, "There's no point in focusing on what's happened, we can only really affect what happens next, right?"

She rounded on him, her tone became less defensive, suddenly accusatory, "And how would ye ken all this if ye weren't there to see it?"

"Ah, well, I kind of caught the end of it," he sputtered, "I saw you round everyone up and leave, but once you disappeared—!"

"So ye were in the _air_?"

She was advancing, despite a rather noticeable limp.

"Well, yes, but—" she cut him off again.

"Why didn't ye _do_ anything?! Ye and yer-yer-ugh! Toothless-dragon-thing?"

"I appreciate the fact that you think myself and Toothless could take nearly twenty or more dragons, plus over forty Viking soldiers, with no back-up of any sort, but you are, unfortunately, very wrong," he gave her a blank stare.

"But to do _nothing," _she curled her lip, giving him a glance like he was a steaming pile of dragon dung, "It's as good as being part of the raid…to do nothing when evil is happening is _cowardly!_"

"And to die in the middle of a problem that isn't my own is _valiant?" _

"Oh, I see how it is," she spat, "Tha's why you were alone, isn't it? Ye fled yer own people, ye run around doin' whatever ye see fit, all because ye have no sense of _honor._"

"Oh, right," he chuckled, sarcastic and angry, his hands coming to rest on his hip as he leaned into his one foot, "Because _honor _got you so far, _Princess."_

Her face was burning hot, her eyes were full of tears of rage, her fingernails making crescents in her palms.

"I may not have succeeded in everything I've tried to accomplish, nay," she shook her head, curls askew and frowning hard, "But when I wake up, I know that I put in _effort_, I _tried._ Can _ye_ same the same? Because all I see here," she gave a furious gesture of her hand, "Is someone runnin' away from all of their problems and it's _pathetic_."

He gave her a bland look before gesturing flippantly to his peg-leg.

"As if I could _run_ anywhere."

Her laugh didn't even sound like herself—perhaps Moira gave her such a dark cackle.

"Och, aye," she rubbed her hands over her forehead, seeing the rust colored speckles between her fingers from the wound that had opened in the night, "Aye, I see ye."

She wheeled around to face him, finger in his face, ignoring the dragon growling his displeasure.

"I see ye. I do, clear as the open sky."

He raised a brow, "Do you?"

"Aye, I ken it now," she felt her lip curl, teeth bared.

"Ye were told ye were _somethin' _your whole life. Told ye'd be a _big man_, someone _powerful_. People _respected_ ye, _listened_ to ye, _cared_ about ye—but ye _didn't want it._"

Hiccup laughed, nodding, scrubbing his face with hands in frustration.

How could she be so right and so wrong at the same time?

"Because ye were _scared._ Scared ye'd fail, fail someone important. Maybe the people, maybe yer ma or yer da…"

He moved away and she moved with him, in his face, nearly inches apart.

"Or maybe ye are just a wee little lamb, too scared to pick up the mantel handed to ye. Because ye realize, because ye know…" She jabbed him once in the chest, hard, making him take a step back.

"Ye know ye're nothin'. Always have been, always will be."

His jaw clenched and he met her eyes, both locked in and refusing to back down from the other.

"I see you, too, Princess," he muttered, quiet, cruel.

"Do ye, now? Enlighten me, then," she spat, crossing her arms.

"You're a spoiled, rotten, brat," he advanced on her then, stepping towards her and she bowed up, fists at the ready.

"You were pampered your whole life, given whatever you wanted. New dress? Here. New horse to run around on? No problem. Always well fed, always well dressed, always protected. Everyone loved you for who you are, who you were going to be, and they let you do whatever you wanted."

Another step, making her back up in equal measure.

"You were educated by fancy teachers, had access to all the information you wanted. You could go where you wanted, act and speak how you wanted—because you were little princess Merida and who could tell you no? Not those maids," she couldn't smother a gasp, mouth agape.

"Why, I never—!"

"Not all those servants that stood up there trying to defend the castle walls, unable to do anything but follow _your orders._"

He advanced again and she took another step away.

"No one ever told you that you were worthless. No one ever told you what to do. No one ever asked too much of you, which is why you _crumbled_ last night! Hel," he laughed, "The _maids_ held up better than you did!"

He gestured to her, waving his hand angrily. She was holding her creaking rib, lowered into a defensive stance. Her hair was still a mess, and the crackling blood across her brow made her seem wild and unruly, unkept and unrefined.

He got in her face, a finger just as close.

"You never saw battle in your _life_, little Princess. You read about them, sure," he shrugged,"Maybe heard stories from all the men, but your people didn't just come out of a centuries worth of war. You never raised a blade to someone or something that was actually willing and wanting to hurt you, you've never really had to fight for anything because you've never actually been _threatened_.

"And you are willing to hurt anyone, even the people who helped you with no real reason to, like my stupid self," he laughed furiously, shaking his head, "Because you can't see how selfish and immature you are!"

Tears streamed down her scarlet cheeks, both of them staring furiously in each other's faces.

"Ye're a monster," she whispered, but rose in volume to a shout, "Ye're no better than yer beasts. Ye can pretend to be more than a raving Viking, but yer armor and dragons don't change the fact that ye'd rather die than be honorable or courageous for even a moment!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, poetic. At least I can protect myself and those I care about."

Hiccup immediately winced at himself, an apology on his mouth when he saw her wide eyes and matching mouth.

In a flash, she shoved him and he fell to the ground with a grunt.

She was breathing heavily, tears glinting in the setting sun.

"I hate ye," she murmured before taking off at an unsteady run out of the cave.

Hiccup gave a sigh and a groan, laying down.

"Yeah, well, feeling's mutual…"

The dragons warbled, approaching him. _Worry_ pounded on the back of his mind, whether for the princess or himself, he wasn't sure.

"Well?!" Hiccup gesticulated in the air above him, "One of you go after her!"

With a huff, the female dragon turned and left while Hiccup covered his own wet eyes with his arm.

Somehow, this situation just keeps getting worse.

* * *

**Berk**

Stoick passed the forge, pausing when he heard Snotlout and Gobber fussing at each other. The chief mainly preferred to stay away from here, seeing how much still seemed to reflect Hiccup and his hand, but there was something that was amiss.

"What's going on in here?" He bellowed, approaching his oldest friend and the son of one of his council members.

Snotlout looked to the ground, crossing his arms.

"Just'a matter with orders, Stoick, tha's all!"

"Orders? For the village or the post?"

Gobber tongued his stone tooth, huffing.

"The post," he answered, cryptically.

"What about the orders, then?"

"There's someone who wants nearly five tonnes of Gronkle iron," Snotlout spat, "And he's already had us make him tonnes before! It's funny and he won't admit it!"

"I's not funny! And what he does with his wares are no concern of ours! As long as he pays, we aren'ta be concerned!'

Stoick rubbed his beard in thought.

"I agree with the boy, Gobber. Where's all that iron headed to? What is he making?"

"Something ta do with ships," Gobber shrugged, "Why should we be worried? We are the only producers of such a material and we also possess the only creatures to be able to damage it."

"That's not a defensive strategy, Gobber," Stoick advised, eyeing his friend.

"Stoick," Gobber gestured to the door and the two men stood together, "The amount he's paying is, well, a dragon's hoard. It's enough to keep the village fed and warm for nearly three winters in a row."

"But what if he turns on us, Gobber? Brings ships to our shores?"

"Then we will slaughter him," Gobber shrugged, "As we always have. Should he have dragons, we will slaughter them too."

Stoick did not agree, but Gobber was insistent so he reluctantly agreed to the sale.

But, the boy was right—something was off.

As he watched a dozen or more dragons flip and perform aerial sequences, he hoped that they would be ready for battle soon enough.

They may need them.

* * *

**Castle Tioram, MacIntosh Lands**

Elinor did _not _run.

She did not _pant._

She did not _perspire._

And she most certainly did not _scream_.

"Fergus! _Fergus!_"

Skirts raised to flash the Lords and their sons quite a bit of her calves, the Queen of DunBroch raced through the hall of castle Tioram, which housed the MacIntosh Clan. The MacGuffin and Dingwall men were collected around a table with a few maps and tankards of ale and her husband stood amongst them.

"What is it, lass? What's happened?"

"Fergus!" She slammed herself into his open arms, sobbing without any care for the men around her that stared at the distress of their Queen.

"Come now, my lassie, don'nae cry," he petted her long, dark hair with trembling hands.

Fergus had never seen Elinor act like this. She had faced everything with such calm reverence, even childbirth seemed to be merely an inconvenience for her instead of some great ordeal. She was so composed, poised, almost like a snake in the grass, always ready to strike.

"Fergus, oh, dear God," she sobbed, "DunBroch was attacked! By _Vikings!"_

His hands stilled. His heart rose to his throat, making him gasp and choke. Immediately, his generals rallied around him, promising retribution, promising revenge.

"How do ye know this, my Lady Queen?" Laird MacIntosh asked.

"Maudie reached friendly territory with the MacKenzie and she wrote to me," she wiped her eyes, but more tears kept pouring down her face.

"She took the boys," Fergus gave a great gust of sigh, his forehead reaching his wife's.

"Oh, lass! Ye gave me such a fright, I thought they were all gone, but…but…"

She was shaking her head, her fist knotting in his tartan.

"Fergus…" she shook, "_Fergus…!"_

"Lass…? Elinor?" He gave her a little shake, "Speak to me! Tell me…Merida…?"

_"__She_ _stayed behind!" _Elinor broke down into a wail, her husband barely able to support her with hands that had gone numb in fear.

The Laird's sons all stood up taller, sharing glances in concern about the spirited princess fearless enough to take on her own hoard of invaders.

"No…" Fergus' vision went incredibly blurry, his eyes tight and itchy as he also began to cry.

"Maudie says, she said," Elinor hiccuped, "She stayed to defend the castle! Fergus! What if she's _dead?! _Or _captured?! She could be rap—!"_

"My Lady Queen," no one would have expected Dingwall, of all people, to gently take the woman's hand and lead her to a chair, "The princess is fine, I am sure. There are no higher and stronger walls than DunBroch and ne'er has there been a fiercer lass to defend it!"

The other Lairds, his old comrades, broke from their shock to help the large man to a sturdy chair.

"Dingwall is, astoundingly, correct," MacGuffin grabbed Fergus' shoulder, speaking softly yet firmly, "If I did'nae know ye in yer youth, Fergus, I'd say the lass was a Changeling!"

Fergus, however, could not take much comfort in the situation. He reached and found Elinor's slender hand in his own, her face obscured by a kerchief as she cried.

"She's fine," he heard himself say, hollowly, as if he had not dared say it at all, "She's fine…of course she is, it's Merida."

Elinor just kept crying.

"My brave lass," he murmured, "_Mo-nighean_…"

"Oh, Fergus," Elinor's hand was slack in his, "What are we going to _do?"_

"We…" his mind searched, completely unable to handle the situation.

Merida. His Merida.

His first born would always be his favorite. He loved his sons, so truly he did, but their clever and rambunctious behavior was a constant mocking that nearly drove him mad and was all their mother. His darling girl came into this world as sweet as the heather, as bright as an early autumn morning, and as adoring as lass could be. She loved him, her "big da" who would tell her stories with funny voices and gestures. The person who would come into her room when she was frightened by the fairies. The person who took all the wrongs of the world away.

Merida and Elinor may have grown apart at some point, but he and his sweet girl never once faltered. She was fearless, his girl—but he still remembered when she told him she wanted a bow 'to hunt gnomes and trolls.' He had laughed but he had loved the very thought of his fiery haired daughter, so much like himself, shooting arrows better than any man. When he thought of her fifth birthday, he remembered her bright grin at his gift, not the loss of his leg.

And when the presentation came and Elinor whisked Merida away, Fergus had stood, just for a moment, protests there in his mind. But it didn't seem like his place, so he held himself as normal when she was trussed up like a dinner hen in fine garments and jewels, so uncomfortable that even he could feel it. To this day he regretted not standing against his wife and the Lairds until the very end of the ordeal, when Merida had already gone through so much to rectify the disastrous situation she herself had caused.

But he had never been prouder, when she whipped off that cloak, bearing a bow of yew wood and the sigil of their clan and bested those stupid boys like they were nothing. Perhaps the only moment that would come close is when she beat him as if he, a seasoned soldier, was nothing.

"My King," the boys, those inane little bastards that had dared to court his beloved daughter, bowed before him, Lachlan MacIntosh sputtering on, "We will go to DunBroch and seek out the whereabouts of the princess and return her here, to castle Tioram."

"A grand idea, son," Laird MacIntosh agreed, "A smaller group would be better, so as not to alert any marauders still in the area…"

Neither of the royal family present were listening.

_'__Be alive,' _they prayed, hands shaking but still clasped tightly, _'Please, be alive…'_

* * *

**Island, South of DunBroch**

Merida had run as far as she could with her sprained ankle and cracked rib. She had found herself back at the pond, her ruined dress and shift still resting innocently on the banks. She played with the laces that would have held it closed, running it through her fingers and wrapping it around her hand as she sat.

The tears had ended a while ago. The sun had set and the moon had begun to rise, fat and promising, to her left. She had ranted and raved, throwing rocks and kicking twigs, yelling into the sky about stupid Viking boys and their big, fat mouths.

The dragon had appeared briefly after, trundling out of the woods and taking up her familiar position hanging from a tree branch.

Merida clasped her arms around her knees, eyes staring blankly at the pond as the sounds of all the creatures of the forest began to grow quieter in her ears.

His words kept replaying in her mind, quickly followed by her own.

She scoffed, under her breath.

"He's a fool," she muttered, the dragon blinking one eye at her.

"He doesn't ken anything about me," she continued.

"What I've gone through or what I've lost…He has no idea about my life."

_'__Then why did his words hurt so much?'_

Her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth grinding.

"He's just…a fool," she muttered, another tear slipping down her cheek, "A stupid…dumb, fool!"

But a part of her couldn't help but hear what he said and acknowledge it as truth. She hadn't ever had to fight in battle, not that she didn't try or didn't want to—she had begged her father to take her on his trip to the MacIntosh lands, but he denied her and commanded she take the throne in his stead, instead of her mother like usual. But because of her lack of experience, she had condemned all those that stayed behind to death.

_'__But I saved my brothers,'_ a hopeful part of her cheered

But she lost her teacher and at her own hand, no less. Merida shivered, not from the cold, but from the haunting memory that shook her to her bones, the memory of the blood spray hitting her throat and dress, how it felt nearly boiling hot, then suddenly so cold. The weight of the cleaver in her hand, how the handle seemed so slick, like it was melting in the heat of her palm. How Moira stiffened, slowly, in her arms as if she was was being remade in wax.

Merida cried, more and more. She wondered if her tears were endless, if she could drown this puny island and bury both herself and the dragon boy in her sorrow.

But wasn't that what she was doing now? Merida always lashed out when she was hurt—she did not know how to mourn or be sad. She had little experience with moping or tears, no, but she had ample experience in rage and ranting. So she stuck with what she knew, striking at anything or anyone that dared hurt her.

But sometimes that included those that were trying to help.

The boy—Hiccup—had reached into his own supplies to bandage her legs and head. He had been in the midst of aiding her when she attacked him because of his careless tongue. He was rude and inept when it came to people, she noticed, but it was better than being uncaring and vindictive.

She wiped at her eyes, face raw and hot.

"What are _ye _lookin' at?" She huffed at the dragon, who promptly covered its eyes.

"Oh, yeah, hide away!" She spat, "Hide from the _monster! _Hide from the raving _bitch!" _

There was a sigh from the beast and it unwound, slipping to the ground silently. It approached and she couldn't find it in her to stand and try to run—what good would it do? The dragon could easily beat her on land and fly after her and pin her down. Plus, all it really seemed to want is to be scratched.

Its face nudged hers, rubbing itself over her cheeks, its smooth hide was cool to the touch and soothing to her irritated skin and Merida did not protest as it continued. It cooed and clicked in a calming manner and Merida could not stop her fingers from reaching out to hold onto the beast as if it were a beloved pet.

"I wish things were different…"

The dragon warbled as she broke down into more tears, her hands out in front of her, perhaps placating, perhaps marveling at what they could and cannot do.

"I just wish…I wish I could fix this, that I could _change_ it…"

But not even magic could conceal her issues and insecurities, nor could she spin back the wheel of time and undo the entire argument.

Cheek to cheek, the girl and the dragon sat and wished that this moment, when it shifted inevitably into another, would be better.

* * *

Hiccup hated himself.

Toothless rested on his gut, watching his rider with wide, loving eyes as the boy had sniffled for a few moments before staring angrily at the ceiling.

"I shouldn't have said that, bud," Hiccup rubbed his beloved friend, despite being crushed by him, "She just…I mean, when she…ugh!"

Despite her cruel words, that did not warrant his own. Hiccup knew just how painful words could be, he knew better than most how devastating a few statements made in jest or in the heat of the moment can stick with a person and grow like a virus in the blood.

She did see him, while not seeing him at all. He was offered power—he was an heir to a clan and village that could have easily dominated over a massive portion of the Archipelago. But he didn't want to rule people that only seemed to love him while he was perfect. People who had once loathed his differences and now praised him for it, people who wanted him dead for so many years, beat him, thrown him around, taunted him only to change as soon as he had a dragon by his side.

But wasn't that what she had accused him of? Being too afraid to fail to even begin to try?

Tears slipped down his temples and into his hair, making his dragon coo in general displeasure.

"I know, bud, I know," he ran his hands along the planes of his face, "People are…hard. Women even more so…but what I did wasn't right. I guess I'll have to apologize…

"It's just been easier with you and the dragons," he always spoke to Toothless, because he knew that he could hear even his lowest mutterings and understood most, if not everything, he was saying.

"I mean, I don't have to think about what I'm saying around you," there was a huff, "Okay, alright, you giant salamander, I have to think a little bit but not a lot!"

Toothless lifted his heavy head only to drop it on him and he coughed, the wind knocked out of him.

"Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile," he wheezed.

Toothless mocked him, growling as if speaking.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Hiccup sighed, "Oh, by Odin's missing eye…what are we going to do, Toothless? This situation…I mean, most situations I'm in aren't the best, sure, but this keeps getting worse by the minute!

"She…I mean…she _hates_ me now…"

The idea oddly upset him, even to this day. To have someone, even a stranger, loathe him for his actions or words. He hated himself for allowing her anger to rile him, hated how her actions had immediately brought him back to a fourteen year old boy being thrown aside during the raids, how he had lashed right back at her without any self-control. He hated himself more than she ever really could, not only for his actions, but for his feelings.

He had avoided people because he didn't want to care how they felt or what they thought of him, hiding with dragons and locking himself away from those that may do him harm.

If he was honest with himself _(and for Thor's sake he didn't want to be) _he knew that she was right. He was a coward and he was happy with himself just as he was. He ran from what he didn't want and toward what he did—it was simple and effective and, personally, incredibly fitting for him. He didn't belong in the Viking confederate, he didn't like bossing others around, he took no pleasure in border debates or neighbor property disputes or imports or exports. And he loathed raiding and the constant violence perpetrated by his own people.

He liked flying and camping beneath the stars. He liked traipsing around port towns and villages that had no idea who he was and they'd never remember him once he was gone. He was happiest being unnoticeable, not worth remembering, just another face in a crowd of hundreds.

Not Hiccup the Horrible. Not Hiccup the Mistake, Hiccup the Horrendous, Hiccup the Hiccup.

Nor Hiccup the Savior, the defeater of the Red Death, the Trainer and Rider of dragons.

He just always wanted to be himself, as plain and pathetic as that sounded. Tinker with machines or mechanisms, fly around on Toothless, help dragons in need.

He never bothered to tell her, but he envied his mother. Her dragon cove was everything he dreamed of, save maybe with a companion like Astrid to keep him warm at night. He saw hatchlings crowding around his feet as he patched wings and soothed hurts, all the while knowing that this never had to end. He could be himself, with his dragons and the woman he loved, until the end of his days.

But Astrid was committed to the village. That was where her _loyalty_ and _honor _lied. In idealism and symbols and huts and houses, just like Merida—she believed in stone and clans and lineage and heritage. They both wanted to serve and protect their people, to prosper their homes, to believe in something bigger than themselves.

"They're just…cogs," Hiccup spat, "Ever turning in a wheel, never seeing what they're doing but knowing they're doing _something_. And I'm a spare part, lost on the ground…rolling and hoping that I belong somewhere in this great…thing! But I don't…I'm just…_extra._"

Toothless didn't like this sort of talk from him, he supposed, because _annoyance _and _anger _poured into him, all of which were not his own. He was still furious, to be sure, but wasn't quite the same. There was a deep _love _that came to him, then, something so foreign it staggered him.

He _did_ do important things. Those dragons that he helped, he may not remember them all, but they surely remembered him. Some dragons never could see a human being more than a hunter, a monster. But those that met Hiccup, they would always know that some kinds of _humanity _weren't all bad. That some human beings had the ability to cease their senseless acts of violence on each other and dragons and that they could do good deeds.

Hiccup scratched his loving friend and stood with a groan. He had to make things right.

"We're stuck together in this situation, Toothless," Hiccup told him, "All of us…You, me, the princess and the female. So, we just…"

He sighed, shaking his head, "We have to get on with it and get along together. So…how do we fix this, bud?"

Toothless warbled, turning in circles and pointing towards the open ocean.

_Food._

"Hey, focus for me, pal, I know you're hungry, but…"

Toothless was doing his gagging trick, as if he were going to expel a half-devoured fish. But when none came, he looked up at Hiccup in expectation.

"_Feed_ her?"

Toothless gave him an expression that poured _'obviously' _from his very scales.

I mean, it could work. His mother couldn't cook to save her life and his dad certainly wasn't much better, so Hiccup had a good hand with a spit and fresh meat.

"Alright, let's go hunting," Toothless took his feet out from under him, making him land hard on his backside again, "Ow! Okay, yes, _fishing._ Jeez!"

The two went in search of food, that, they hoped, would somehow fix all their problems.

* * *

**Chapter 3 complete!**


	5. Chapter Four: Solid Ground

**I don't own _Brave _or _HTTYD. _**

* * *

Chapter Four: Solid Ground

**Island, South of DunBroch**

Merida closed her eyes and _focused_.

Her magic—Moira's? No, hers, now—was warm inside of her. It bloomed like the heather across the highlands, opening just barely then all at once. It seemed to pour from her skin, her hair, her fingernails and between her toes. It was vibrant and bright as it always was, making her palms tingle until they were nearly numb, as if she'd been sparring too long with her longsword.

The dragon watched, her eyes so bright they could outshine the sun. They were golden, polished brighter than a sword hilt, with an outer ring of bronze and inner of citrine green. She was an amazing piece of aerodynamics if Merida had ever seen one—and she had, possessing a penchant for her da's hunting falcons. She had loved the way their wings had glimmered, iridescent in the sunlight, as they soared higher and higher. But Merida couldn't pay attention to the dragon staring at her, she needed to focus on herself, her own body, not another.

She took a deep breath, hitching because of the pain in her ribs, and she immediately honed in there. Under her skin and muscles, she felt the cracks creak ominously when they expanded, moving with each inhalation and exhalation. She could see it clearly in her mind—little hairline weaknesses along the bone. Her fingers twitched and she _focused—_

Her brow was wet with sweat. The muscles in her shoulders ached and tensed with effort. Her toes curled. Her knuckles ached.

Knitting bones was hard, skin equally so. It had to be held and pulled together with magic strong enough to do it, which is why healers usually used other materials to aid them, plants, mud, potions and the like. Something that connected you to the earth or something more powerful than one person, something eternal and massive. To merely sit and pull and grunt and groan was _exhausting_ but she continued to mold everything back together, reduce the swelling, ease the pain.

She was holding her breath and when she gasped, sputtering, the ache was minimal—it was only bruises now, deep in the skin.

"Once more, come on, now," she muttered to herself, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

Her ankle wasn't broken, thank Odin or Thor or whoever else that the Viking boy had mentioned. It was sprained, but muscles could be healed with less effort than bone and flesh that wasn't torn open. She could ease the ache, soothe the pain, make it bend and move again with ease.

The scratches she'd leave be, but she washed her face to rid her brow of the rust blood that had dried overnight that her sweat had wetted. The brown water ran down her face and into the pond and its bank as she sat there, considering her murky reflection.

Her hair was wild. Always had been, always will be. Her cheeks were bright red still with agitation and rage. Her eyes met her reflection and she had to pull away from the dark water.

She felt like a monster, a beast, as if she herself had been changed into Mor'du. She had lashed out because she could, struck where he had left himself open and vulnerable. It didn't matter what he was running away from or if he was running at all, that wasn't her business and it wasn't her right to exploit what he was willing to show her.

She sighed, heavily, looking up at the bright moon and stars above her.

He had _saved _her.

Maybe more than once.

"Ugh," she pulled at her own face, "I am such an…ugh!"

The dragon, a _Nightfury _is what Hiccup had called it, stared at her like a pensive cat.

How was this creature the same one that had nearly eviscerated her not even a single night before? It was so…quiet, thoughtful, and controlled. It did not act the way Hiccup's did, like an excited dog that pranced around its owner's feet, too exuberant to hear its rider. This one moved with grace and poise, like a great dancer. It was more like a fox than a dragon. It was more predatory in its advances and movements. And eyes that never left what it wanted.

"Why me?" She whispered to it, "Why…_claim _me?"

It sat back and scratched behind an ear-like appendage with its hind leg. A smattering of black scales, smooth as well worn river pebbles, fell around her with soft tinkling sounds, like glass beads on a broken string.

"Tha's so helpful, thank ye," she rolled her eyes and stood with only a small groan of effort.

"What do ye think I should do, then?"

More staring between them.

"I've never had to apologize to someone before," Merida rambled, going in small circles as she spoke, "I mean, my mum does'nae really count…"

She rubbed her temples, a habit she had picked up from that very same mother.

"'Hey, Hiccup!" She began sarcastically, "'Sorry I was such a—'"

* * *

"—Asshole! I'm a fucking asshole," Hiccup spat around the back of his dragon as they soared close to the ocean and set off plasma bolts to blast schools of fish into a large basket Toothless was carrying.

"And I honestly don't even know how to explain—"

* * *

"—why I acted that way! And for what I said—"

* * *

"—Ugh, that was an _awful thing _to say to you and—"

* * *

She flung a stick into the pond, "It wasn't yer fault, I _started_ the whole thing!"

* * *

"I mean, I started it with my big, fat mouth!"

* * *

"And I just—Ugh! What I mean to say is—!"

* * *

"What I'm _trying_ to get to is—!"

* * *

"I'm sorry, lad! I should'nae have said what I said."

* * *

"Gods, I'm just so sorry…"

Hiccup rubbed Toothless when he warbled at him, muffled by the basket full of food in his mouth.

"Enough for everyone? Alright, bud, let's head back."

Turning in a wide arc back towards the island, the scream of the dragon's wings echoed impossibly loud in the night.

* * *

Merida heard the screech and went running to the shore, the dragon trailing behind her at a sedate pace. She could see the smallest outline, like a massive bat, careening through the sky. That same sound, that sounded like the scream of catapult fire sending boulders through the sky, seemed to echo around the beach.

She watched, spellbound, as they rocketed towards them. The beast, the dragon, no, _Toothless,_ did an impressive combination of aerial spins and corkscrew dives before soaring upward into the clouds. Merida gasped, the dragon completely disappearing before shooting downwards like a pitch-black star. Just as she believed the creature would surely sink into the waves, it pulled up and skimmed across the water like a heron.

And when it got closer, she saw Hiccup on the dragon's back. She should have assumed that was so, seeing how that was their relationship—dragon and rider—but it still shocked her that he dared such feats with nothing more than a saddle and good grip.

He was fearless and his outright joy, as he landed on the beach, hair completely askew _(well, more so than normal, she supposed) _and flushed from the chilly Spring winds, laughing as the dragon dropped a basket full of fish in the sand.

The dragon, _her_ dragon, raced to fill its own belly with a loud cry of excitement. Hiccup gave her an awkward wave from across the strand and she responded, biting her lip and feeling outright ridiculous.

He approached and she met him step for step.

"Hiccup—"

"Princess, I mean, uh, Merida…"

She swallowed, eyes cast to the sand.

"I'm sorry," he jumped, beating her to it.

"Nay," she shook her head, ringlets bouncing in every direction, "Ye should'nae apologize, I was the one that started it all…"

She pushed her hair back, sighing deeply.

"Look," she paced a bit, back and forth, not wanting to look at him, "I don't know…I've never been around many people my own age, so…not that it's an excuse, ye ken, but…"

She flapped her hands with a violent groan that made Hiccup chuckle.

"I don't know how to do…_this_."

"You just gestured to all of me."

"And yer dragon."

"And my dragon."

"And that one, too."

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Her, too."

"Aye, but," she crossed her arms over her chest, "I…I should'nae have said what I did. In all honesty, I do'nae know ye or anything about ye…"

"And I don't know you," he stared at her and she slowly met his gaze, "So…"

"So," she nodded, resolute, "We have to…I guess, learn to work…together?"

"Exactly, we need to, um, uh…trust each other and talk? I guess?"

She shrugged, "I do'nae know any more than ye do, laddie."

"Well, how about a meal? Shared between friends?"

She gave him a smile, "That sounds like a start."

And it was.

* * *

Once a fire was roaring on the beach, two fish gutted and turning on spits carved quickly by Hiccup's hand, the two sat in quiet as they watched the hypnotic dance of the flames.

"So…you, uh," he tried to fill the silence, "You said your father has a…peg-leg?"

"Och, aye," she rolled her turquoise eyes, "It's his favorite story to tell."

"Oh…yeah," he chuckled, thinking there couldn't be a story he hated more than the loss of his foot and the fight against his father and the Red Death. But it was connected to his relationship with Toothless, him finally gaining friends and respect, despite all the ups and downs.

She cocked her head at him, a smile still on her lips.

She wetted them, her brows lowered for a moment before she asked,

"Perhaps we could…make a trade, then?"

"A trade?"

"Aye," she nodded, "A story for a story."

"I don't want to talk about my leg, thanks," he groused, turning the fish so it didn't char.

"Does'nae have to be that story, but maybe…something else?"

He paused, looking at her expression.

"Okay," he agreed, "A trade. You go first."

She stood with a grin, dusting sand off her knees.

"Well! Let me tell you of the demon bear Mor'du who once, long ago, haunted the moors…"

She was an animated story teller. She paced and made dramatic expressions, her hands forming claws or simulacra of flying birds or arrows. It was a gift, and Hiccup found himself utterly enraptured by the fantastic tale of the will-o-wisps and the monstrous animal that attacked the family one easy afternoon on her fifth birthday.

"And—whoosh! One swipe his sword shattered! Then—chomp!" She made clawed hands at Toothless, who warbled and hid behind Hiccup's back, "Da's leg was clean off! Down the monsters throat it went…"

She waved her hands, as if casting a spell around the camp fire _(and maybe she was, Hiccup could not dare look away), _"The demon bear Mor'du roamed the wild for many a year afterwards, until he was cut down…"

Her eyes lowered, briefly, before she shot him a small smile.

"But that's a story for another time, I believe."

She plopped down, holding the cloak around her tightly.

"Well?"

He blinked, still thinking.

"But…but, wait, how'd he get back to the castle?"

"Well, he—"

"And where did the bear come from? I've never heard of anything like that!"

"Well, that_ is_ a funny story, actually, but—"

"And how could your family take the bear as a crest after that? It's just weird!"

"He did'nae die," she stated, hands in her lap with a sarcastic expression, "We're Scottish, boy-o, we're stubborn."

He laughed, shaking his head, "Yeah…I guess I get that."

He turned his attention to the fish, which was ready. He passed the stick to her, about to offer his one small plate and fork that was still in his pack but a quick flight to reach, but she tucked in, minding the small bones as if she had done it many times. It was another shock, which he felt like he had a million tiny ones since he met her and would most likely have to face a million more.

She just wasn't what he expected at every turn. When he thought she'd find comfort, she would find offense, when he believed her to cry, she raged—there was nothing familiar about her, nothing normal. She was like something from her story, a mythical creature that directed lost souls and led them to their fate.

Maybe that's exactly what she was doing to him now.

"Well," she threw her used stick and bones back into the fire between them, "Come on, then!"

He looked up, mouth full, "Wha'?"

"Yer turn, laddie, let's hear it!"

He mumbled again, incoherently.

"Yer _story," _she clarified, "That's what we agreed upon, yes? Our _deal?_"

"Oh," he swallowed, "Um…"

She waited, blinking expectantly. Damn witches and their deals—he really had to quit agreeing to those.

"Well," he rubbed his suddenly sweating palms on his breeches as he stood, intending to do as she did.

But what did tell? And how did he start?

"I was born on Berk," she gave a little laugh and he nodded, "Yeah, it was…Well, I used to call it, or say, really…"

"Lad," she gave him a half-grin, "Take a deep breath, it's just…us," she gestured to herself and the dragons.

They took a brief beat to watch Toothless regurgitate a half eaten fish and offer it to the female, who hissed and turned to flick sand over the offering.

The laugh shared between them at the dragons expense relaxed him.

"I lived on Berk. It was twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of Misery. My village was…sturdy. It has been there for seven generations, but for years, we were forced to rebuild every few months. We had hunting, fishing, and a charming view of the sunsets…the only problem was the pests…"

Toothless appeared to balk in offense and he noticed Merida was, seemingly, invested.

"Most places have mice or mosquitoes. But we have dragons.

"And killing a dragon meant everything to the Village. A Deadly Nadder was sure to get me noticed, at least. Gronkles are tough, taking down one of those would have definitely gotten me a girlfriend! Zippleback? Exotic, two heads, double the status. Then there's the Monstrous Nightmare, only the best Vikings go after those, they have the nasty habit of setting themselves on fire…"

She seemed utterly entranced and he continued, encouraged, gesticulating and motioning and imitating her own actions.

So he told her the beginning of his story, his mistakes and faults and how desperately he wanted to be included by his own people. He told her his violence against Toothless, how he shot him down and condemned him to death.

"But I…I couldn't do it. I looked at him, and he looked as scared as I felt. I looked at him…and I saw myself. So I was the first Viking in the last five-hundred years that couldn't kill a dragon! But," he raised a finger tauntingly, "I'd be the first to _ride one._"

She leaned forward, listening as he explained how he manufactured the dragon tail that he originally designed with the pedal. How he learned to fly in a panic around the Norn's Teeth, the rocky stones that nearly killed them both, and he told her about Dragon Training.

"I obviously didn't fit in with the rest of the kids, I mean, I wasn't…I was the mistake," he explained, noting her frown.

"Me? I was the walking fish-bone! No guts or glory," he laughed, deprecatingly, "But now I had tricks up my sleeve and I was willing to use them. So I downed the Gronckle with a little bit of Dragon Grass, makes them nuts!"

He laughed and she, not really comprehending, smiled at the sound.

"Then the Deadly Nadder, oh, Stormfly is such a softy…a couple good scratches under the jaw and she was limp on the ground. Barf and Belch, well, they're a little more wild like their riders, but an eel in the vest and they went scampering right back to their cages!"

And he told her how he was going to have the right to kill the Monstrous Nightmare, now named Hookfang and ridden by a young Viking named Snotlout.

_"Really?"_ She sputtered, breaking the unspoken rule to never interrupt a story.

"Hiccup isn't so bad now, is it?" He taunted in good fun and she laughed again.

He told her how he nearly showed them all, right there in the ring, that he could tame them, that they weren't violent.

"And then my dad just _had _to ruin it!"

He skipped over the fight between them, jumping right to how he banded his team of riders together and went after the nest. He had also, oddly, skipped over his night flight with Astrid and explained their ability to find the nest based purely off their dragon's being called by the Red Death.

He raced through to saving Toothless from the his own tribe, staring into her wide blue eyes as he told her how he rushed to face off with the monstrous beast and, working together with his beloved friend, burned the demonic dragon from the inside out. He described in detail how its wings had evaporated, turning to charred ash, the reek of its flesh, the scream it let out as it melted from the inside out.

At the end, seeing her green expression, he almost made himself sick at the memory.

"And then…the tail, made for smashing, like a mace, fell and the fin was already burning and we couldn't turn away and…and…"

Her eyes fell to his leg in a brutal moment of understanding and he wondered why he started telling this story, how it lead to here. He didn't mean to get to this, did he? He didn't want to relive that horrible day or many of those that led up to it. He had plenty of stories from his travels and trips, but somehow he landed on the worst memory he could conjure.

"We fell. He saved me," he gestured to the dragon, who was now digging a massive hole in the sand, "Most of me, that is."

There was a beat of silence.

"And, that's…that's the story."

"Ye did'nae have to tell me, Hiccup," she was drawing in the soft sand with a small stick.

He swallowed, "It was a good story, though, right?"

She shot him a grin, her nose wrinkling in pleasure.

"One of the best I've heard! If my wee brothers were here, oh," she chortled, slapping her knee like a sailer after a bawdy joke, "You'd have to run for yer life! Ye and yer dragon, both!"

"Brothers?"

"Aye," she gave him a long, exhausted look, "Triplets."

"That's worse than twins!"

"Aye," she said slowly, "By one, I'd reckon."

He laughed at her sarcasm and she chuckled as well.

Hiccup looked at her then, really looked at her. This was good, for them surely, but even more so for her. She had experienced something awful and he knew would take years to heal and would change her forever. But here, in the warm glow of the firelight, they could be kids again. Not a dragon rider or a princess uprooted, but two people swapping stories over filled bellies.

Toothless noticed the princess doodling and came over to inspect her work. Inspired, apparently, he went and retrieved his own tree branch. Both Merida and the female Nightfury watched as Toothless attempted to recreate the concentric, connected circles that the princess had sketched. His strokes were wobbly and massive in comparison, but Hiccup was amazed at her brilliant grin.

"Look at ye, my wee beastie!" She cried, seeing the similarity without him having to point it out to her.

Toothless flapped his wings in pleasure, making the other Nightfury cover her eyes with a wing so as to avoid the flying sand.

"Easy, bud, easy!" Hiccup raised his arms.

The dragon cooed and clicked as if questioning and Hiccup raised his thumb to his chin, thinking.

"Hey…" she looked up as she fed the fire some more.

"You wanted to fly, right?"

She nodded, slowly and swallowing thickly at the thought. She stood, without wobbling, and treaded over to the pair. Hiccup had already seated himself in the saddle and offered her hand.

"Is it…safe?"

"Sure," he grinned, "Don't you trust me?"

She gave him a critical look, as sharp as her tiny dagger. She licked her lips, the pink skin drawing Hiccup's attention for the _barest _moment before he was staring back into her eyes.

She took his fingers in her own as if agreeing to another bargain, something unspoken in her determined eyes.

"Yes," she hopped on, settling herself between his thighs, her backside pressing solidly into his hips. He was about to tell her to get in the _back_, but she wiggled and his throat went unexpectedly dry.

Hiccup cleared his throat, seeing the female sitting and watching with quiet contemplation at the three.

"Maybe next time," his voice was only a little higher in pitch, "You can ride her."

"Do ye think she'd let me?"

"Probably," he cleared his throat, "But for now—hold on, tight!"

Toothless shot into the air, straight up and sending both the riders nearly back into the sand with the force of it. The dragon was obviously wanting to show off his very best tricks to the new rider, either to frighten or amaze, Hiccup wasn't sure but _amusement _and _pleasure_ were radiating from Toothless as he gave an echoing cry of joy that was drowned out by the scream of his wings.

Merida, to his great pleasure, gave a holler of excitement and raised her arms in joy as Toothless dove and spun before opening his great wings and began to sail. He was glad she sat in front, now, so she wouldn't fall off the saddle.

"He's so fast!" She laughed, turning back to him.

Hiccup could barely see through her massive amount of hair, but he pulled some locks from his mouth and agreed over the sound of the wind.

Toothless looped and rolled close to the ocean for awhile, letting Merida dip her hands in the water while Hiccup hastily grabbed her to keep her within the saddle.

_'__She may trust me too much!' _He nearly groaned with effort before the dragon was right side up again, the tip of his wing just barely dipping into the water as he tilted, flying in a wide arc.

"Can we go higher?!" She bounced and Hiccup rolled his eyes and cursed the gods silently.

Toothless, however, needed no more prodding and began to climb steadily upward until they were rushing through the thin clouds that ever so often passed over the moon.

Merida gasped when they hit the low belly of a dark cloud, expecting something different—how many times did she sit idle and wonder about how a cloud would feel across her cheek? It was cold and wet, not much different than a soft sea spray, but it smelled so clean and bright that she was immediately reminded of Hiccup.

He smelled like the clouds. Like man, as well, despite washing, but his musk of wood fires and the sharp tang of ozone from his lightning-bred dragon was cut with this soft, almost imperceptible smell.

She raised her arms out, as if wings, as if she herself was flying. She didn't know if the wetness on her cheeks was from running through sky or if she was crying once again, but she gave an unsteady sigh as the dragon smoothly and effortlessly glided in the dim gloom, not even the moonlight appearing to pierce the thick, misty-substance.

There was movement to her left and she felt her hand go to where her quiver would have been, her fingers aching to shoot an arrow. There was another flash of blackness, as if the shadows were moving around them, and she was about to ask Hiccup if he saw the same when the yellow-eyed dragon appeared beside them, looking at them in acknowledgment. She waved, feeling childlike again but not caring when she heard Hiccup chuckle behind her.

The dragon kept her gaze, briefly, before it sank back into the darkness. She gasped, delighted, when it appeared to the right of them, ducking in and out of sight as if to goad Toothless into a misty chase.

"Go get her, bud," Hiccup encouraged, his hands finding her waist.

She was about to demand just what he was doing when the dragon gave a sharp twist, following the other dragon. Toothless surely saw much better than the two humans, Merida only once or twice glimpsing the flick of a tail or the tip of a wing, always close but never catching up. It was just like a game of chase, just like children, and Merida could not help but lean over the dragon and watch as if she could assist.

"There!" She pointed in the black and Toothless shot forward, like an arrow, but the female dodged his advances again.

This was _amazing_. This was _better_ than amazing, she thought, the two great winged beasts dipping and ducking to avoid each other. She would have never believed that she could feel this _free. _She could literally touch the sky, could reach out and grab the moon, could do anything, go anywhere! She couldn't stop her excited laughter, that kept pouring from her. This was better than the first time she was put on a horse, the first time she shot a bullseye, the first time she spent all night in the woods by herself.

"This is the best thing, _ever!_" She whooped again, arms raised as she hollered.

Toothless, agreeing, shot off a plasma bolt in front of them, intending to fly right through. Hiccup groaned, muttering in agitation before covering her face with his arms. She sputtered, hands about to rip him from her, when she was lashed with bright hot electric pulse that sent her hair on end as if she was struck with lightning, branding her uncovered skin and nearly sending her off the dragon.

"Damn it, you useless reptile!" Hiccup groused, coughing from inhaling some of the blast.

Toothless warbled an apology and immediately dropped lower until they were shooting across the ocean like a war ship, gently landing on the beach.

Merida was still blinking and twitching with electric pulses when Hiccup pulled her from the saddle and she dropped into the sand, knees locked. He took one look at her, hair fuzzy and big, eyes and mouth agape, one eye blinking a little too much—and burst into raucous laughter.

Toothless nudged her head in an apology, the female landing close by and clicking in concern, despite how the human male was acting.

Merida, breaking from her momentary shock, grabbed Toothless' wide head.

"Ye _beauty!" _

Hiccup's breath caught in his throat as Merida peppered kisses all over his dragon's face. At first, unused to such treatment, the dragon was taught and motionless, before he became absolute _putty _in her hands. She giggled before it became a full, wheezing laugh as she pressed her head along Toothless' long nose as his tongue lolled from his mouth and he grinned with resounding _joy_.

"Ye are undeniably _fantastic," _she cried, scratching the dragon under his chin.

Toothless dropped like a stone into her lap and she barely flinched. The female, upon seeing her companion receive such affection, trundled over and demanded that she also be loved. With both hands on two dragons, deviating between complimenting and adoring them both, Hiccup couldn't dare pull his eyes away. He heard some snorting in between her giggles, which inspired another bout of his own laughter.

The moon watched, revealed from the clouds like a blinking eye, staring down from above at the two.

* * *

**Castle Tioram, MacIntosh Lands**

"Do ye ken this to be a good idea, Lachlan?" Ian MacGuffin asked, still timid despite his massive size. He was saddling his sweet mare, Lily, as they prepared to go off in search of the princess.

"The plan is perfect, lad," the son of Laird MacIntosh boasted as he strapped a bedroll and food stores to his own horse, "We find her, we save her, she marries one us and we become king. Simple as that."

Sean _(or Seany-boy to his father) _Dingwall nodded, only somewhat recovered from the attack that had almost taken his life. He had been wounded, massively, and nearly died if it was not for King Fergus. Ian had helped the young man up onto the horse, knowing that he was struggling.

Ian MacGuffin _liked _Merida. Perhaps even _like-liked _her. She was kind when she wasn't getting offended and he worked very hard after the first presentation to work on his speech. He and his da spent many hours reading poetry and speeches so that he would be well understood and he near perfected his penmanship so that he and the princess could write back and forth. He sent her long, somewhat agonizingly detailed letters about his days and progress, about one thing or another. Her letters in response were often woefully short, but sometimes punctuated with tiny doodles of her little brothers or her horse and she responded fairly quickly, so he never complained. He collected their letters and stashed them away, hoping quietly beyond hope that one day, when he is chosen as her husband, to present them to her and reveal that he had wanted to stand by her side for a long time.

But he must keep these thoughts a secret, especially from Lachlan. The heir of the MacIntosh clan was full of ambition and terrible pride, boasting that he and the princess would be wed in the next year or so. He liked his freedom, however, and had spent most of his time hunting and spending time with unscrupulous lassies that flocked to a Laird's son, ready to lift their wool skirts in hope to win his hand in marriage. But Ian had plans, plans to become King of the Four Clans and over Castle DunBroch. When he spoke about the princess, Ian had to use all of his considerable strength not to reach out and wring the life from his throat.

It's not that it was particularly cruel or awful things, but it was tavern talk and rudeness that was not warranted for a lady of her station and birth. Lachlan wanted to marry her, bear and heir, and then let each other live in separate castles doing whatever it is they pleased. But Ian thought she should be cherished, protected from all the troubles she's so fond of throwing herself into. Of course, she'd be free to have her horses and her falcons and all the arrows they could make for her, but Ian never wanted her to worry or fret or, God forbid, cry.

And wee Sean Dingwall…well, despite the harshness of the thought, Ian did not believe he did much thinking of anything, let alone about the lassies. He was even more lackluster and quiet since his wounding, and Ian felt quite bad about how he was even more limp, like day old haggis.

He wanted to get to Merida. And quickly, but these two fools would slow him down. He rode with a purpose, he rode for love and concern. Sean would ride because he was told to and Lachlan, well, he rode for his own personal gain.

Ian worried about the princess. She was a wee thing, in his mind. Hell, she wouldn't even weigh a quarter of caber! She was mainly hair and quick wit and a big mouth. She was too small to be out in such a big world and, admittedly, he was fairly cross with her decision to stay and defend DunBroch from invaders when she should have run with her brothers. He knew that she was capable of taking care of herself, perhaps more than most men, but that did not necessarily meant she was prepared to fight a war. Now, after seeing the beasts that the other Vikings had brought with them from the North, he was deeply afraid that the princess was nothing more than char and ash or used as a pincushion for sharp spikes.

He knew he had to let MacIntosh lead them, despite the urge to speak over him and demand they _move. _But if he began to show himself, his desires and wants, in his actions, Lachlan will be suspicious—if not downright accusatory. He cannot show his hand now, or he'll endanger the entire expedition to find and save Merida.

He didn't need her hand, not right now. He knew she was a little too reckless, too foolish, and feckless. She wanted her freedom, which he could allow her to have for as long as she needed, until she was ready to accept him. He would be crushed if she chose another, but he would never break ties with DunBroch, as his father had promised hers. But he'd be lying if he didn't believe himself to be the best option of the three—he could protect her, he had a great mind for politics and history, and he truly could learn to love her. The others couldn't provide such things for her, but he knew he could.

He even believed she could learn to love him.

So when the other two boys stared as he drove Lily forward, he ignored them and continued upwards towards the forest path that would begin a long trek towards the castle of DunBroch.

* * *

**Island, South of DunBroch**

"I don't ken this to be a good idea…" Merida pulled her hair into a tight bun above her head, using the spare piece of leather cord that held her dress together to attempt to keep it in place.

"Sure, it is!" Hiccup was running, his gait astoundingly even despite the loss of his limb, chasing the female Nightfury in circles around the little cove.

"I do'nae think she wants me to ride her, Hiccup," she approached him as he bent, panting.

"Well, why don't _you _try asking her then?" He waved his hand, still doubled over.

Merida approached the dragon, who sat once she saw that Hiccup was no longer chasing after her. She scratched behind her ear again, just like a dog, sending a few more scales down onto the beach. They sparkled under the dappled moonlight streaming through the slowly dissipating clouds. The princess held out her palm, holding her breath until the dragon gently nudged the planes of her face against her hand and dragged her tongue across her upturned wrist. Merida couldn't help her smile, leaning forward to nuzzle her head against the dragon's.

But when she moved to her side, thinking to straddle her like she had done with Toothless, she danced away and got low to the ground. Although her stance was defensive, she did not seem outwardly aggressive or upset with Merida—merely that she did not seem ready to allow the girl such liberty.

Merida considered this and decided to leave it be, shrugging and turning to speak with Hiccup that she felt that pushing the issue would make things worse. But the other dragon leapt, pushing at her back before jumping to the side when she stumbled forward then whirled around, a few strands of red hair coming displaced.

So Merida tried again, only to have the dragon dance away again. She followed, getting a bit closer, before the beast flapped her great wings and blew sand in her face to push her away.

"What," the red haired girl coughed, "Is she doin'?"

Hiccup shook sand from his hair, amused and, admittedly, at a loss.

"I'm not sure…"

Merida snorted, "Some dragon tamer ye are…"

He gave a few defensive sputters before she laughed and he relaxed, seeing her teasing as good fun.

She tried again. And again. And _again._

Each time the female would run off a few yards and then look back, expectant. Or threw small, albeit still terrifying, plasma shots into the sand, creating chunks of dark, ruddy glass. Or send sand flying across the small beach and into their faces.

Finally, Merida gave a screeching groan of annoyance and plopped down beside the fire, crossing her arms.

Immediately, Hiccup watched in fascination as the female returned and began to harass, for lack of a better word, the princess.

"What do ye want from me, ye damn beastie?!" She huffed, whirling around as the dragon hopped backwards and got into a pouncing position.

"I think…"

The dragon raised her tail, swaying in anticipation for the princess to chase her.

"I think it's a test…"

"What?"

"You have to prove you're worthy to ride her…You have to win."

"Ye've got to be kidding me!"

He had watched them dance, dodging and chasing each other in frustrating circles.

Merida whipped the cape off her shoulders and threw it into the sand _(his cape, mind you, made of wool and he was never going to get the granules out of the fibers!) _She snarled and the dragon bared her teeth in response, but her pupils are still wide and friendly instead of slits.

Merida did _not_ lose. She was incredibly competitive and determined to succeed in anything she put her mind to and this was no different. She had to win agains the dragon, she had to be able to ride her—she was willing to let it go before, when she believed that it made the other female feel afraid or uncomfortable, but now that she knew it was a test?

Oh, it was _so on._

Merida was able to get a solid grasp on her tail, but was quickly tossed halfway across the beach and landed in the wet, compact strand and knocking the air out of her. She stood with a wheeze, seeing Hiccup watching and refusing to get involved with a dragon and her potential rider. This wasn't the way he and Toothless bonded, but Snotlout and Hookfang had a strange, if not violent, but loving relationship.

"Alright," her eyes flashed as her hands began to glow steadily, "Now I'm mad!"

Her face was shadowed from the eerie smolder of her clenched fists, turquoise glinting under her chin and the highlights of her cheeks. Her irises, already so blue they made Hiccup ache for the sky, seemed to radiate from within, a powerful, haunting color that made his stomach clench.

The dragon, however, seemed pleased. She braced her legs in preparation and both stood, anticipating the other's attack.

Merida raised her hand in a swift motion, causing a heavy wave of sand to rush towards the dragon, who leapt into the air and hovered with the aid of the ocean breeze. With palpable annoyance, Merida continued to send torrents of sand upward to the ever rising dragon.

"Ugh!" She stomped her feet, "Come down and face me, ye nyaff dragon!"

The female dove, apparently not liking the threat or the insult. She landed with a thud, head lowered and dangerous. Her mouth was lined with bright lavender, the smell of ozone competing with the effervescence of salt.

"Come on, ye!"

When the shot fired, Hiccup felt his hair stand on end and he hollered, the realization that her death meant his own hitting him at the last possible moment. When he opened his eyes, momentarily blinded from the brightness, he found her still standing and unmoved—and grinning.

"Oh," she cooed, light pouring from her eyes like a Holdur, "Wee lamb!"

Within her hands was a pile of purple mass that writhed and pulsed as if alive. Hiccup gasped and Toothless tucked himself behind his rider, nearly cowering at the sight of the plasma blast held in her tiny grip.

"Oh, blessed Odin…"

She tossed the blast as if it was a stone and it skidded over the ocean, crashing through deep water waves before disappearing with a shuddering flash. Hiccup felt as though his jaw might dislocate from his gaping and Toothless whined behind him.

Merida, now imbibed with her mysterious_ seiðr, _raised her fists higher. The bruise across her brow where she had banged her head against the cave floor last night _(how was that only last night?) _seemed a sickly greenish tint in the haze of her power.

"My turn!" She chirruped, honestly having _fun, _and raised her open hands to the sky. The sand underneath the dragon's form began to twist and swirl before erupting from the ground in a massive cyclone that began reaching towards the sky. The female gave a screech and attempted to fly away but it was pulling her in, her wings flapping furiously in an attempt to escape the sand that would surely do more than burnish her scales.

Hiccup began to feel the pull of the wind and grabbed Toothless' saddle, hearing his warning warble just barely over the rushing of the wind in his ears. He attempted to call to the princess, but it was carried away on the wind as swiftly as a feather.

She cackled and, with a wave, the cyclone was gone and the female Nightfury flapped in panic, completely blown off course and stumbling hard back into the sand, skidding and twittering in shock and pain. She went to get up and take off, but she began sinking in blue-tinted sand that was being manipulated by the princess' hands.

"Merida!" Hiccup, now that the wind had disappeared, "Stop! You're scaring her!"

"No!" She approached the downed dragon, eyes and hands still ablaze, "Ye listen to me. My magic is a part of me. Ye'll have to understand that, if ye truly want me to ride with ye. If not…"

The sand pulsed and breathed, pushing the dragon up to let her stand once more. The two stared, deeply, gold meeting a blazing azure.

"Ye are free to go. Out of all of us, ye are not bound by anything here…"

Hiccup winced at that, glad she was turned away from him.

Neither moved for a long time, the night suddenly incredibly quiet. After her show, the animals of the wood behind them fled to a safer part of the island, rushing under bushes and into nooks and crannies.

The female dragon turned and offered Merida her back. Hiccup released a sigh as she mounted the dragon and her power faded back into her skin. She brushed her hands down the dragon's neck and cooed and murmured to her before she sat up straight and the female raised her wings in preparation.

"Wait!" Hiccup yelled again, rushing forward, "You don't have a way to hold on!"

"Oh, my wee lamb," she gave him a mocking sigh, "As if I need one!"

And she was up in the air with a shout of excitement, the two taking off into the darkness. Hiccup mounted a bouncing Toothless and they followed after, his mouth full of warnings and concern. But, truly, she seemed to be just fine as her hair began to come loose from its updo. She sailed through the sky as if she had been doing it since birth, allowing the dragon to do as it pleased, gliding and soaring through the stiff ocean currents.

It was different than flying with Hiccup but not so different than when she'd ride Angus bareback. She clenched the muscles in her thighs and shrieked in overwhelming adoration that flying inspired. She looked back at Hiccup and his dragon, slightly awed by their seamless and effortless connection as they rode as if one being. She wanted to see more, however, and the rush of her magic had yet to fade from her blood as they soared through the air.

She yelled something but she was too far for him to hear, but it seemed to be a challenge. She and the dragon took off like a shot and Hiccup felt the shift in Toothless' wings as they followed in quick pursuit. After a moment of catch-up, the dorsal fins along his dragon's back popped up and Hiccup was flooded with a continuous chant of _chase, fly, go, go, go, go! _And he couldn't help his grin as Toothless dove underneath the other riders before careening back upwards to cut them off in a sharp turn.

Merida, to her credit, didn't even scream as she tumbled off the dragon's back when she reared to avoid collision with the male. She grinned at him and turned herself as if to dive, laughing as she plummeted, her hair loose and streaming around her like the tail of a shooting star. The female, crying out in fear, swooped with Hiccup and Toothless right on her tail.

Merida yelped when the dragon scrabbled to get a grip on her before she hit the freezing deep ocean water. Her claws dug into the soft skin of her arms and chest, Merida still guffawing as yellow eyes stretched to check under her belly and make sure that she had the girl in her grip. The four sailed back to the beach for the second time that night, Merida being dropped suddenly into the sand with a solid _'thump!' _as she hit the ground.

She brushed curls out of her eyes, meeting Hiccup's concerned look. She had a few more bruises, but she was ecstatic, standing and brushing off her borrowed pants as she began asking him a thousand questions about dragon care and health, how to make a saddle like his, do their hides thicken during the winter, how much should you feed a dragon, how long does it take to tire them while flying, could you equip one with armor like a warhorse or would that ruin their ability to fly? Her mouth was a flurry of movement and Hiccup was unable to keep up for a brief moment before he began answering and butting in, quick to divulge and explain everything she needed.

And he was excited. Not just about the Nightfury, of course he couldn't even begin to express his outright joy at Toothless finding a mate, or at least a potential one. And perhaps there was a nest, or a breeding ground, just like the other dragons and she could lead them there. But he was excited to have someone with him who seemed just as in love as dragons as he is, someone that he could speak to at length about their care and the best way to handle situations. He was excited to match her enthusiasm, to broach all the topics about dragon varieties and speak at length about every aspect of them. And Merida, having bonded to the female Nightfury, made it easier to keep them all together and it lightened the load on Toothless while flying, which would make it a lot easier to travel. Plus she could carry her bags and her necessities on her and—

Hiccup swallowed hard. That was _not_ the plan, keeping her around and flying with her to find more dragons? No, she and him had to break the spell between them. Then, Toothless could command that the female come with him and Merida would be back at her castle with her family and her high walls and her clans and fancy dinners and everyone would be back in their rightful places.

But that wasn't what he had learned about her, despite her brightly burning pride. She was more warrior than princess, more Valkyrie than Highlander. She was fearless, facing off against Viking and dragon alike without flinching, and, by the Norns, she was strong. She could handle dragon flame like a toy ball and manipulate the very space and objects around her. The more she seemed to come in contact with it, the more the _Völva's _magic seemed to assimilate with her, become more and more _hers. _It was a terrifying and thrilling possibility, to join forces, to form an alliance, to fly across the world again and again across the backs of their dragons.

"Yer lookin' at me awfully funny, lad," Merida was finger-combing her fiery mane.

"I…"

The machine he was intending to build to break the curse between them was tossed away with a suddenness that defined his entire life. He and Toothless and the new dragon would protect her with a fierceness that rivaled her own personality and they would all stay together and experience all he had seen and plenty more.

"I was just wondering if you thought of a name?"

She hummed in thought.

"'Cause, you know, if you're open to suggestions, I was thinking Nightshade, or maybe Black—"

"Her name," Merida leaned into the nudge the dragon pressed to her cheek, "Is Saorsa."

"Sheer-what?"

"Seer-sha," she enunciated clearly and particularly in her funny accent, her brow raised in a challenge, "It means _freedom_."

He flushed in ignorance, nodding and rubbing the back of his head as he agreed, lowly, that it was a good and fitting name.

"What do ye think, my wee beastie? Saorsa work for ye?"

The dragon trilled happily, sitting in the cool sand of the beach as Hiccup set about fixing the fire again.

"We should try to rest," Hiccup shrugged one shoulder, "Tomorrow will be…long and difficult."

"Do ye…" she prodded the fire with a stick, frowning, "Have they moved on so soon?"

"It's raiding season. They're probably gone now and looking for another place to attack."

She rose and paced, her hands coming to rub at her temples.

"If they find my brothers…if they attack where they are…I will'nae be there to protect them."

He sighed, staring into the fire.

"I can'nae take them back to DunBroch…I can't take them with us…"

He looked at her, "Where are we headed, exactly?"

She looked at him like it was obvious, "Well, I have to get revenge. Those Vikings came to _my home_, they took everything I swore to _protect_, they slaughtered and scattered _my people!_"

He scrubbed his face with his hands.

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

"There will be clues at the castle, surely," she argued, "The shields usually hold some…decorations! Certainly they mean something."

He shrugged one shoulder, "Sometimes. Not always, though. And what are you going to do if—?"

"When!"

"—_If _we catch them?"

Her eyes flashed that deadly blue, "I will finish what I started."

"So…you intend to kill them?"

She nodded, "Aye. Do ye have a problem with that?"

It wasn't accusatory or cruel sounding. It was merely a question, not exactly loaded but at the same time not exactly innocent.

"I think they're more useful alive."

She cocked her head, waiting for an explanation.

"I mean…surely they're being directed by someone. The dragons were organized which tells me they have something that can control them."

"Such as?"

"I'm not sure, there are a few things that can affect a dragon's mind. There are plants, other, more powerful dragons, and who knows what else?" He huffed running a hand through his hair.

"There are plants that can control dragons?"

"Yeah, it's a—look, it's a whole thing, I'll explain later," he groused, "But right now…you're talking about hunting down a hoard of Vikings and picking them off? With just the two of us?"

"And what do ye suggest then, Hiccup?"

She was pleading, begging him to agree to her manhunt. Surely he could understand that she needed to avenge the people lost, surely he understood that she couldn't do it all alone, surely he didn't want to endanger her life when her survival meant his own.

"I think…if we do this?" He gestured between them vaguely, "We need more riders and we need help. Toothless and Saorsa are stronger together, but a whole fleet of warships, which could be upwards of a hundred men, some of which may be from the Berserker tribe and twenty or so dragons? This isn't something the four of us can handle. Plus…"

He looked at her, mimicking her crossed arms.

"You need a saddle. And armor. And a weapon."

"I'm a better shot blind than you, boy-o," she snarked, cocky, "And I've got my magic!"

"Yes, but that's not something I want you to have to use," he explained with a sigh, "I don't know about your people but a _Völva _is usually considered someone untrustworthy, dangerous."

"A _what?" _

_"_A _Völva, _y'know…like you?"

"I think ye're mistaking yer words, it's _Cailleach._"

Hiccup didn't understand, which was odd—the witch herself had bestowed the language to him, so it seemed strange to leave out certain terms or phrases.

"But…you do use _seiðr_, right?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Ye're changing languages…ye speak my own and then jump to another."

"But, okay, hold on," he waved his palms.

"When you use your…powers, what do you call your…_seiðr?"_

"My _draoidheachd_?"

"You're making words up, now," he shook his head, "That's not a real word."

She chuckled, wrinkling her nose.

"'Tis, so!"

"Nope."

"Aye, I promise!"

"Not fallin' for it, good try though."

She shook her head, "It is odd though. You sound…"

Her fingers pinched along with her brow in thought, searching for the right way to phrase her statement.

"Ye don't sound wrong, exactly, ye just sound_ off_. Foreign, or maybe like a sailor? Like ye were taught by a Scot, but heard other languages around ye."

He shrugged, "Moira gave me the language with…some dirt and a rock?"

"Aye," she nodded in complete understanding, "She gave ye the language of the land through the land itself, ye see? Who better to give it to ye than the rocks and roots that watched it be created, that heard their names spoken throughout time?"

Hiccup was quickly realizing that he had no mind for magic. Gears and screws and wooden beams were simple, moving parts and pulleys and systems were easy. But to think about these sort of things just made his head hurt, so he shrugged in obvious obliviousness and she leapt into a description about how material objects held power and how you could infuse certain things with wants and desires and intentions.

"Like my knife!" She finished, happily.

"This thing?" He produced the poorly made blade, no bigger than his palm.

"Aye," she opened her hand, "Now give it back."

"I'd be surprised it could cut anything," Hiccup chuckled at her shoddy work in the firelight, the dents and uneven appearance of the blade and the dullness of the metal, "I mean, how'd you even manage to make something this badly?"

She huffed in fury, but he continued to tease her.

"Did you even fold the metal?"

She flushed.

"Aye!"

"No, you didn't," he laughed, "This will break against skin, let alone anything else."

Her tone changed, along with her demeanor.

"Oh, really, now? Why don't you try it?"

Despite how bad it looked, Hiccup wasn't willing to test a knife on flesh so he found a stray stick that had yet to be fed to the fire and held the blade against the bark.

"Don't get mad at me when this thing snaps in two."

She raised a brow in challenge.

He pressed, jerking his hand forward with the hope that, at the very least, it didn't break. But when the stick was cleaved clean in half, he blinked at the angled slice that he saw.

She said nothing, but her triumphant smirk was more than enough.

"Okay, too small," he shrugged, despite a small part of him realizing that the size wouldn't change the angle of the cut but it would have broken instead, "Let me find something else."

She bent and retrieved a shell, already half broken from the rough waves.

"Fine, you want to break it, that's on you," he took it from her hands and went to cut it as if it was wood.

With a sharp _'shink!' _in tune with the dancing flame, the shell was shaved through.

"What…?"

"It's _draoidheachd,_" she explained, slowly, as if he was a child, "It's my will.

"When I made it," she took it deftly from his slack grip, "I infused it with my want—_'cut through skin and bone and armor, cut through anything and everything to defend me.' _Ye see?"

"No," he shook his head, "I don't…"

She laughed at him and he felt incredibly small. How had she used what _he_ knew and turned it into what _she_ knew? He had been blacksmithing since he was tall enough to reach Gobber's table, his small hands grabbing dangerous tools that nearly severed his toes long before the Red Death took part of his leg. He had pounded and poured molten hot metal, had earned plenty of nicks and scars from his work, had burned himself a hundred times or more to make something half this strong or sharp. But she used metal most likely recycled, pounded it a few times and somehow managed to create something more deadly than his sword.

He blinked at her, astounded.

That same dangerous rush filled him, the exact feeling he had when he first flew with Toothless, when he constructed his own flying suit and went jumping off cliffs, the same feeling he had when he hunted a new species down. His forehead and palms dotted with sweat and his heart somehow overpowered the roaring of the waves crashing down along the shoreline and he felt the world tilt at just the right angle. The skin along the back of his neck prickled with anticipation to something, something disastrous and adventurous and exciting, and his guts roiled just as if he and Toothless plummeted towards the earth in a corkscrew dive that sent them both into dizzy chuckles.

Her curls looked brassy in the moonlight, bleached to a dull shade not far from his own. Her skin was clear and pale and bright, attesting to her heritage and pedigree that she was not allowed to tan outside like a common worker. Her hands, despite the monstrous power they wielded, were small in comparison to his own and her weak chin belied her impossible stubborn nature. She was fierce and wild and dangerous and Hiccup, despite knowing that he had seen prettier girls with plenty of wiles and were all sweetness and promises of of honeyed evenings, never paid them much mind for more than a quick romp or two. But Merida demanded attention, from the clench of her jaw to the brightness of her hair, she was absolutely impossible to ignore or disregard. She had a regality to her that was beyond her speech or striding walk, but more about the set in her shoulders and the strength of her convictions.

She was rare and violent and unpredictable, like a new species waiting in these lands just for him to discover all of her secrets.

"You're—uh! _It's_ amazing."

She flashed him a brilliant grin and he felt heat circle his cheeks and ears.

"Thank ye, but…it's nothin' to me now…"

Her gaze fell to her palms, still cut up despite all of her magical displays. Her expression, just a moment ago was so bright and clear, crumpled and fell as tears started to slide down her cheeks and she couldn't contain her sob. She covered her face and turned away from him, her shoulders shaking as she fought to contain herself.

_'__A princess does not show weakness! A princess does not cry in front of others! A princess does not burden those around her with her struggles!'_

"Hey," Hiccup, though, seemed to have little care of etiquette. His hands hesitantly reached out and touched her shoulder. He ignored the fact that she jumped half a foot in the air, but turned her slowly into his open arms and she gasped, unused to such contact, before burying her burning cheeks _(from grief or shame?)_ in the softness of his shirt and allowed herself to be what she had claimed previously: she was no longer a princess, but merely a woman crushed by terrible circumstances.

The dragons cooed and collected around the pair in concern, nudging them both in concentric circles as they turned like two shadows along a sundial.

Merida knew that what happened wasn't _exactly _her fault. She was too weak to recognize what Moira was doing, the spell that she was weaving so deeply over her limbs that she couldn't fight it when the time came. But she couldn't forget—she would _never _forget—how her throat had split open and the weight of her body in her grip. It was a nightmare that would haunt her until the end of her days, not only the gore, but the loss of her friend and the knowledge that it was for her benefit, this monstrous sacrifice. It turned her guts so hard she nearly gagged into Hiccup's shoulder, her fingers spasming into a tight grip.

"You know," his hand found her hair and despite a hot rush of anger at his forwardness, his petting soothed her enough to listen, "If you think about it…This way she'll never leave you."

She wanted to _shout_ at him, to _shake_ him until his head spun, to _slap_ and _punch_ him and _scream_ until she was hoarse. But his fingers knotted in her hair and he gently scratched his dull, blunt nails across her scalp and her knees nearly gave way at the shock and pleasure of it.

"Her power is yours now. It lives and grows inside of you. Yes, it's-it's yours, of course, but it was something of hers that you will keep forever. It's the greatest gift, really…"

That was an oddly sweet sentiment, despite it's poor delivery.

Merida sniveled pitifully, turning her nose into his collarbone. He smelled like smoke, sea spray, but underneath was the dangerous tang of ozone, like the taste of cold copper on the tongue, all tempered with the soft scent of the clouds.

Merida felt that it would be _proper _to blush, to be ashamed of their vicinity. She had never been this close to a Viking, let alone one her age _(unless battle counts), _and his contact did not inspire the disgust she expected or wanted it to evoke. She should push him away, slap him silly for daring to touch the crown child of Fergus the Bear King, remind him of his place when he was around her.

But she had no place.

She had failed.

DunBroch and its citizens, her parents, her brothers, everyone that had depended on her.

A new wave of sorrow hit her harder than any deep dive into the sea could have and she clung to him as if a raft in the middle of a storm. He pulled her closer, his other hand resting on her back and rubbing in small circles that made her hiccup and whine as she stained his shirt with saltwater drops that did not originate from the frothing caps behind them.

Hiccup felt himself _stretch_—to accommodate all her heartache and the connection he felt that was between them. He did not know loss as she did, but he did know it. And there were days, albeit rare, when he missed all the comforts he had given up, his bed and home, his friends and family, his heritage and position. But he was smart and good at separating himself from his feelings, so he would spend time hopping from port to port for interaction and friendly faces between gathering necessities and he drove himself further from Berk to deeper caves and hidden inlets and new places to call home if for just one single evening.

And then he would fall in love with what he was doing, where he was going, all over again. His freedom as he put on his helmet and armor, his best friend with him through all the trials and triumphs across the Archipelago and beyond. He met a million dragons, great and small, kind and ferocious, colorful and camouflaged, and he forgot all about Berk and its miseries. The island grew to nothing but a pinprick, another story about his past to regale to sailors and travelers alike, who all felt the call of the wide open promise of something _more_ beyond the horizon.

But he avoided _problems. _Because it was easy and clean and simple and _Gods did he hate it when women cried! _

"Shh," he cupped the back her neck, "It's going to be okay, alright? I—"

"Don't ye dare promise me a thing or I swear, I'll—!"

"Oh, just shut it for a minute," he leaned her back to look into her eyes, "We're going to figure it out, okay? You, me, Toothless, and Saorsa."

She blinked red rimmed eyes at him, biting her lip and nodding before gripping him again. He rolled his eyes but it didn't stop his slight smirk as she held onto him like a lifeline. He petted her head again and began to rock, stiffly, back and forth as she tired herself out. Hiccup knew, probably better than most, that after so long, crying just exhausted you instead of making you feel better.

When she subsided, the fire had gone down again and he took her hand as she wiped her nose across her _(His!) _sleeve and followed rather listlessly. If he were honest, the back and forth between joy and sorrow had worn him out as well and despite sunrise not being for a few more hours yet he was tired. But he didn't like her like this—limp and lacking in her fire. The dragons followed behind their riders, both keeping trained eyes on their shuffling steps through the underbrush and back into the wooded area.

Once they reached the cave, Hiccup noticed something glinting near the opening. He paused, letting Merida head inside, as he bent to inspect it. Saorsa followed her rider, but Toothless was as curious as his person, even before their souls and minds merged.

It was a pendant. He held it between his thumb and pointer finger as he lifted it to a thin patch of moonlight shifting through the trees. It was an engraving of sorts, three wolves interlocking in a continuous spinning reel. Their eyes were green emeralds that sparkled dimly in the pale white light and the silver was shined to perfection, nearly like a looking glass. He pocketed it, shrugging as he followed the princess inside the darkened cave. He could see fairly well in the darkness, thanks to the power he and Toothless shared, but it wasn't as clear as the dragon's abilities. Plus, there were too many grooves along the cave walls and floor to risk running in without aid.

"Hey, bud," Hiccup called, "Give a gimp some light, would ya?"

The dragon opened his mouth and let a hot wave of plasma collect in his mouth, but did not dare fire it. It set the entire room in an ominous purple-white glow that had Merida blinking in confusion and covering her eyes. Hiccup strode in, his mechanic foot finding pit holes and still tripping him up which sent his traitorous dragon to snickering.

"Yeah, laugh it up, you giant lizard…"

A small shot landed at his feet and he yelped.

Merida chuckled wetly.

He gave her a small smile as she sat, curled up against the wall again. He went to his pack and dug out those bandages _(of course they were in in his side satchel), _along with the rest of his haphazard medical kit.

"So, um…"

She blinked at him, face running copiously.

He knelt, only slightly awkward with his hands full, offering her what he had as he explained some of the vials and bottles.

"So, that's, um, Triple Stryke venom, from its first tail and it numbs the skin which is great for when you need stitches. Oh! That's liquid Death Song amber and it will seal small cuts and keep dirt and debris from wounds so they don't get infected. And this!"

He held up a chunk of some kind of stone, appearing like glass.

"This is from the fusillade of a Snow Wraith, all the way up on Glacier Island."

He pressed it into her waiting palms and she hissed at its freezing temperature.

"Ice? But…how?"

"It's not _normal _ice, it's made from a dragon like Gronckle iron or magma. It stays like this forever!"

She hummed as she immediately pressed it to her face to soothe her burning cheeks, quietly amazed that something so magnificent existed. It didn't feel like ice, it was heavy and solid like the finest made glass ever blown in the Highlands. The edges were sharp like rock and it didn't leave a trail of drops across her skin, nor did it begin to grow warmer in her touch. She knew that if she kept it in her fingers, they would eventually turn black and fall off.

Hiccup went about explaining everything gathered and then looked up at her with wide, half-terrified green eyes, his slightly crooked teeth biting on his lower lip.

"…Yes?"

"Well, I, um, you're…you have wounds and I have…stuff," he raised the box, the little bottles clinking quietly.

"Oh, um," she shrugged, "I fixed the big ones."

"You _fixed _them?"

"My rib and my ankle, yeah…with," her mouth twisted, "_Seiðr_?"

"Yeah, but…you're covered with scratches and they're all a little red…I think we should treat them, just in case they could get infected."

She hesitated, their eyes meeting before she presented him with her legs. Hiccup released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and beckoned his glowing dragon forward. Toothless lit up the surrounding area and Hiccup got to work inspecting and cleaning her cuts and scrapes as gently as possible before he bandaged them.

"So…why heal the other things but not these?"

She glared at him as if she were about to snap but a wince sapped her of her bite.

"Healing is…" she sighed, "It's hard. Most people who dabble in healing magic use plants and other potions to help them, it…"

She yelped when he got incredibly close, his eyes searching hers as he gently ran a thin brush covered in some kind of venom or poison or whatever from a dragon that would help close the wound and keep it clean while he wrapped a long strip of fabric around her forehead while wrestling with her hair.

"It takes _so much_ energy to heal things, especially open wounds or breaks because they have to be _forced_ back together."

He wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, so he kept his hands busy as he tied the bandage tightly around her brow before adjusting it, so entirely focused that he didn't realize how close their faces were until he noticed her eyes were closed.

"Are you alright?"

Her lids fluttered open, "Aye, just…tired. And scared."

She found him odd, but not in a bad way, which is perhaps why she found herself trusting him. Something about his story before, when he depreciated himself so much before her, claimed that perhaps his oddities were not appreciated where he was born just as hers were not appreciated in her own home.

He smiled, strained, "I know. But I believe we can fix it once we get back to DunBroch. We'll get you outfitted for travel, I'll make you a saddle for Saorsa, we'll practice and then…well, if you're serious about hunting down those Vikings—"

She ignored how he separated _himself _from the word _Viking,_ "I am."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Then we need help. But I think I know where to find them, at least."

"Where?"

"Berk."

"You're old home?"

"Yes, remember my riders? Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut? They'll help you, help us."

He wasn't exactly sure about that, but it gave him time to figure out a better plan then hunting down the marauders and diving headfirst into a battle to the death. She was dangerous, because her anger was so palpable that she wanted to rip anyone in her path down. She would get them all killed if he wasn't there to temper that fury, to mold and shape it from rough hewn metal to the sharpest blade. That was the only way to save them both and once it was done, he'd convince her to leave with him, to abandon the husk of the castle and join him on an endless flight across the the seas.

He didn't know _why_ that was what he wanted, but he wasn't willing to let her go without a fight.

"Do ye think we can find them?"

He hesitated, "First things first: we'll go back, just like Moira told us to and then we'll figure out what comes next."

She flexed her bandaged hands experimentally, a wry smile twisting her pink mouth.

"Ye're right, boy-o," the smile morphed into a smirk, "We'll figure it out…together."

* * *

**Chapter 4, complete. **


	6. Chapter Five: Soar

**I do not own **_**Brave **_**or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Five: Soar

**Island, South of DunBroch**

She was worse waking than Astrid. But unlike the blonde, who favored early mornings just like her Stormfly, Merida seemed to be more like him—late to bed and even later to rise. When, finally, after some prodding, Saorsa came and lifted Merida bodily from her personal cocoon did Hiccup see how swollen her eyes and cheeks were. He wondered if she had cried more in the dawn and early afternoon, or if it was all from the sorrow she expressed to him in the night. He didn't dare comment and she pretended as though the event never transpired, which may have been best if he was to keep this unsteady peace between them.

He handed her tack bread and some dried jerky, which she chewed on half-consciously, the only noise in the cave as the dragons streaked out across the ocean for their own lunch.

Silence stretched, thick and loud, between them.

The two dragons reappeared with fond greetings to their respective riders, Hiccup being thoroughly coated in saliva as he groaned and whined while Saorsa butted her head against Merida's, cooing softly as their cheeks brushed against each other. She patted her, gaze longing and adoring as she stood stiffly and stretched, a series of dull pops heard from her neck, back and interlocked fingers.

Her hands ran across the dragons head and neck, scratching behind the flat appendages that swiveled and moved so attentively and gave such animation and expression to her face. In the sunlight that was making its way into the cave, both dragon's seemed to sparkle in a million different opalescent shades, the black of their scales so dark it appeared like tar. The dragon made soothed, happy garbles as Merida showered her with the attention she demanded, traipsing around her bandaged legs like a pleased house-cat.

"Och, ye wee beastie," she murmured as her blunt nails ran along her scales, the texture similar to that of polished metal. Her skin moved like leather but was still harder than anything Merida had come across, reptile or other.

"Ah-ha!" Hiccup declared, making both the females jump.

He held up a rope contraption, grinning crookedly and showing off one dimple.

"Harness and reigns."

She arched a brow, "Really?"

"You have to hang on somehow and this is what I've got," he raised one shoulder, "Last night was just a short flight and this trip is a few hours, so you'll need it."

She eyed it warily before shrugging back in response.

"Well," she snapped, cocking her hip to the side and resting her hand on it, "I've only got my life and body to lose."

He snickered at her as he reached for Saorsa, still surprised when she tap-danced away from him like a skittish colt.

He clicked his tongue, "She still doesn't trust me."

Merida took the rope from his slack fingers, muttering so low he barely heard, "That makes two of us."

Hiccup stared, brows furrowed in frustration as Merida fitted the reigns around Saorsa's head.

He didn't understand. The back and forth with the princess was giving him whiplash, from hot to cold, furious and ecstatic, ignored then acknowledged. He was exhausted trying to keep up with her emotions as well as attempt to placate and absolve her fears. Instead of even bothering asking, he just shook his head with a scoff and started packing up all of his gear and hooking it onto Toothless' saddle.

They headed out into the afternoon sun and made their way down to the beach for an easier take-off. The tension between them was building with the heat and humidity of an unusually warm spring day, neither having any desire to talk but so much needed to be said between them.

Merida hooked the rope belt around her waist to keep her settled on Saorsa's back. She straddled the dragon, not bothering to look back at Hiccup as he strapped his threatening helm across his face. Wanting to get away from him, her own embarrassment from the night before, and her self hatred, she squeezed her knees and was pleased when her dragon lifted steadily and quickly into the open air.

It was as amazing as she remembered. As they rose, closer and closer to the bright, puffy clouds that floated like massive tufts of fleece on shearing day, she felt the space between them grow and she could begin to _breathe _again. She had always imagined the clouds to feel like wool, soft and weightless in her grip, but she was beginning to believe that the soft brush of the vapor across her face was just as satisfying. The wind whipped at her pile of hair, tangling it further, but she lifted her face towards the sun, the sea breeze cutting through the muggy afternoon just as the mere _act _of flying cut through her foul mood.

"Hey!"

She turned to see him speed up right beside her and shouted over the rushing wind, his mask lifted to reveal his scowl, "Any idea where you're going?!"

She shrugged and he rolled his eyes before dropping his helm again and moving to fly in front of her, if only a by few definitive feet.

Her competitiveness began to eat at her the moment he took the lead and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.

She shouldn't be mad at him, _she shouldn't, _but she _was. _She had woken up furious about the night before, how she had bared all so easily to him. It was the moonlight, she reasoned, it was the rush of flying and the bright stars and his big green eyes. She was _stronger _than this and her tears had been a weakness that she couldn't afford. She felt like in the past few days, she had cried more than any other time in her life, even more than a bairn. She opened herself up and he didn't bother to criticize or judge her, but that didn't mean that she didn't blame herself.

He was a fool and she felt no better.

They couldn't be _friends, _she thought as her fingers bit into the rope and her teeth ground together. They were _enemies, _by blood and history and a bit of camaraderie couldn't begin to change all that had happened so many years before. And how could she in all good conscience accept help from other _Vikings_, just because they may be of another tribe or clan? Although he was _(damnably!) _compelling and smart and he managed to help her _(just a bit) _with handling and flying Saorsa, this connection between them had to be broken by her hand. She didn't want to be responsible for their lives or deaths, especially when she had a vendetta so close at hand.

She just hadn't figured out the key yet.

Pain blossomed behind her eyes, due to the stress and the bright sun above and glinting off the ocean waves below her. No wonder the boy wore a mask—she begrudgingly admitted she'd probably need something similar in the near future, if they intended to continue flying during the day.

She swallowed the panic at the thought of facing the ruins of DunBroch. Would it look like the buried castle, the decrepit home of Mor'du? Would she be no better than the cursed prince and haunt the walls of her once home? Would the walls be cracked and crumbling, would the tapestry that rekindled her relationship with her mother still be there, or did the Viking hoard yank it from its rod and use it as a napkin after downing her father's stores? Would there be anything left of her room? Did her illusion hold or did they find her cauldron? Did the potion hanging there still bubble, or had it exploded with Moira's own black pot?

How many huts and homes were burned to the ground? How many stalls were ransacked of all their goods and wares? How many weapons were taken from the few that remained to protect the castle? How much damage would there be to the economy? Where would they even begin to rebuild their trade, not just with the other clans but with other nations around them? How would the population recover?

How much blood soaked the streets?

How many bodies littered the ground?

How many tombs would she have to fill?

How many faces would she recognize?

How many had died with axes, how many with swords or blows to the head?

How many women were raped?

Did any _dare _return after the raid?

Were her parents still alive?

She squeezed her eyes shut to stave oncoming tears, a migraine spiking her head with pain. Saorsa, underneath her, either taking notice of her distress and attempting to alleviate it or, perhaps, having no idea but her own, seemed to ride a few currents that led them both higher and above Hiccup and Toothless. The dragon's keen eyes noticed their ascent and grumbled, signaling his rider to yell curses that were muffled by his mask. Merida hit the cloud with a gasp, miniature droplets of moisture collecting on her strands of hair. The gentle tufts seemed to stroke her cheek like a feather, softer than anything she had ever experienced. Her hands and jaw unclenched, her shoulders fell away from her ears, knots being undone along her spine and she reached her hands upwards as if she could collect little bits of cloud in her hands and store them somewhere deep within herself. It was everything it had been the night before and more.

The thin, smoky, streaking clouds were all encompassing, like sitting in a dark room filled with furs and down blankets. They were safe and cool and it made her feel as protected as if she were still small and sitting on her father's lap or held in her mother's arms. The bright, fluffy clouds illuminated by the sun, looked like wool and felt like freedom, as if the world had been broken open and there was no beginning or end.

She was beginning to see why Hiccup refused to stop, to return or be grounded by anything. It was an addictive experience, it felt like nothing she could describe, and she wanted more time on the backs of dragons. They could literally fly away from all of her problems, all of her issues and the people who wanted to hurt her. She thought her magic was her way to freedom—she could manipulate the odds, conceal facts and truths, transform what others see into something completely different. She thought when she began to study with Moira, that she had discovered the way to completely define and create her fate.

But this?

This was _true_ freedom.

"This is…" she sighed to herself, soft and breathy, "God, it's _everything I've ever dreamed of_…"

The dragon, in agreement, began giant, graceful loops, breaking out of the clouds to catch Merida's face in the sun before tipping, blocking out the golden rays with her black wings. The princess was happy to have the rope to hold onto as the dragon spiraled through the sky with great arcs of her powerful body. Merida, feeling herself lift from the back of her dragon, bent over and hugged onto her neck to keep from plummeting down twice in the span of twenty-four hours.

She could feel Saorsa's pulse under her hands, steady and strong as it thumped in cadence with the beat of her wings.

Yeah, she could understand why Hiccup never wanted to touch foot on the ground again.

When Saorsa dropped from the clouds, Hiccup and Toothless appeared like the shadow of a giant seagull in front of them. Feeling more like herself, she whispered to the dragon, _her dragon, _

"Let's show them what _fast _really means, _mo nighean."_

The pulse under her hands sped up as her wings began to push them forward, beating furiously and immediately beginning to make up the difference between the four flyers. Her eyes watered from the speed of the wind and she closed them, despite the laughs bubbling across the dragon's scales. After they reached a certain speed, the same screaming roar could be heard from the sheer _force _of her body cutting through the open sky.

Hiccup heard them coming and Toothless evaded the pair as they passed at a breakneck pace. Knowing a race when he saw one, Hiccup and Toothless immediately sped up and began to pursue them.

Hiccup was the champion dragon racer _(or he was) _on Berk and it was his one sense of pride. He had been knocked down, beat up, mocked, loathed, and broken by the very people that cheered and praised him on the race track, their faces painted red and black to mimic him and his dragon's coloring. It was during the races that he forgot how much pain he endured, it was then that he could _almost, _if only for a barest moment, see himself leading the Hairy Hooligans. When he saw the stands of the dragon training ring, now stacked with citizens cheering on him and Toothless, he felt like he finally belonged to the village, to his father.

Toothless, apparently, also loved a challenge—his mind _raced_—_faster, faster, faster! _Hiccup had been absorbed in his own thoughts after Merida had disappeared into the clouds, streaks of red and black just barely visible through the ivory and gray tufts. He didn't understand her sudden desire to pull away, the distance she put between them emotionally and physically. But he let her fly anyway, knowing that sometimes, being chased is the last thing you want.

And sometimes, people _ask _to be chased.

With Toothless underneath him, coiled tighter than the spring in his prosthesis, _pushed _and _pulsed_ forward, overjoyed to race again. As they twisted in the sunlight, gaining distance with ferocious speed, Hiccup found himself chuckling under his breath.

Poor princess doesn't know what she started.

When Toothless matched Merida and Saorsa, Hiccup pulled up his helmet with a smirk and a wink, but she was wrapped around the dragon with her eyes streaming tears as she laughed, breathless. Looking at her, he had Toothless pause.

Hair like the tail of a shooting star, the curls _stretching, opening _with the sheer force of the wind, her face as pale and round as a full moon, her freckles suddenly so apparent on her blushing cheeks. She grasped her arms around the female dragon as if hugging her closest friend.

She was beautiful.

He had thought it when he first saw her, dulled in the moonlight. But, here, in her full glory under the sun, she was nearly blinding. Her joy was a palpable, physical thing that seemed nearly as transformative as her _seiðr_. Every time he looked at her, he saw her relationship to something mythical, dangerous. He saw her as every bit dragon—and, by the gods, did he want to dance with those bright claws, her spewing flames, her dangerous nature.

Her blue eyes, barely parted, were slits. Seeing him watching her, she stopped laughing and turned her head into the hide of the female Nightfury and drove Saorsa faster and further away from the male pair.

_'__Faster, Toothless!' _

Perhaps the dragon could hear his thoughts through their soulful connection, or perhaps he just didn't like the few yards Saorsa had gained on him. His wings flapped twice and he advanced. Then she and then him again, back and forth, neck and neck, wing and wing.

Hiccup felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, the electrical power of his dragon beginning to snap and spark under him as Toothless tapped into his Alpha power. He gave a loud cry, perhaps a warning or a challenge, his spine and wings suddenly glowing a bright bluish purple that filled his eyes and mouth. Hiccup thanked Thor that his armor was made with his dragon's last molted skin and he was spared the bursts of charges that would certainly have hurt otherwise.

When Merida spied him, her brows rose as her mouth parted in confusion before twisting into a furious scowl. He gave her a snarky wave as they rode by as if riding on lightning alone.

Merida wondered if Hiccup had magic of his own, the way his dragon began to glow. But she knew it was something more, there was no scent of magic in the air, only the reek of lethal ozone. The red-haired princess whispered to the dragon struggling to keep up,

"Do ye want to know true power, Saorsa? I'll give it to ye, if ye'd let me…"

There was a moment before a warbling coo and Merida summoned her magic to her hands, letting it fill the empty spaces between them. The bright blue raced along her scales and filled her yellow eyes until they matched her rider, screeching at the back of Hiccup and Toothless—demanding respect and acknowledgement of her power.

Merida concentrated, bile pooling in her mouth and her mind swimming with the effort. She was enhancing her speed, her power, her muscles and blood. She could see her heart in her mind, not much different than her own as it pulsed furiously to spur her on further, faster, stronger. She could feel the dragon's own, specific, kind of magic race along it, drawing in the electrical charge that was just _around _in the sky. It crackled along her skin and the dragons, rushing and pulsing and crackling against her, as hot as fire.

Hiccup sputtered when Merida flew by, her own dragon as blue as Toothless. Her eyes, previously shut against the onslaught of the wind, were now open and glowing that same, ruthless, turquoise with her dragon's gaze the same shade.

His hands immediately began to sweat with a feverish death wish and he wanted to tempt that fate.

The two dragons cawed furiously at each other, both riders feeling as though they might be in the way of creatures far beyond their understanding or control. Merida felt young next to the dragons, a child in the face of something as old as Moira, something chthonic, something timeless. Hiccup felt as though he barely understood his best friend, eyes slits that spoke of something vicious and deadly, lightning spewing from him mouth. For the first time since they met, he was terrified of him.

When Saorsa lunged through the air, Merida screamed and let go in panic as the two massive beasts began scrabbling and clawing at each other. She flailed in the rope harness, dragging her dragon down and nearly getting hit with a swift lunge from Toothless. He shouted and reached for her but the rope was old and snapped, Merida plummeting like a stone. Hiccup was hit across the face by a clawed leg, his helmet saving his face as it shattered and sent him backwards, only held on by his harness. Cursing fluently, Hiccup unhooked himself with shaking hands as he went free falling along with the princess. The two dragons screeched above him and he winced, seeing Merida flailing as he shot down.

He had to time this just right.

Once he grabbed her arm solidly, he released his flight suit. It wouldn't keep them aloft, but it would at least slow down the descent into the ocean so she wouldn't break any bones. They hovered for just a moment before her legs hit the freezing ocean and, with a pained yelp, they both fell in. They kicked to the surface, luckily in somewhat still waters but still having to fight the ocean current.

Two pairs of eyes shot to the sky, watching as blasts were fired and evaded and their well being was basically ignored.

"What is happenin'?!" She sputtered, spitting salt water.

"You're dragon challenged mine," Hiccup smacked the water, splashing them both, "You just started a battle for dominance!"

"_Me?!_"

"Yes, _you!_"

He cursed again, having to kick furiously to keep himself above water, his leg a massive weight along with his heavy armor.

"He's an Alpha," he spat, reaching out to grab his collar around her thin throat and shaking her, "He's a leader of dragons and-and-oh, Thor…"

He couldn't help but start laughing. It was a cruel bit of fate, but the chaotic rush he felt when he went shooting through the air and picking up Merida made his heart race and his back begin to sweat and he couldn't help but wonder if his own heritage was somehow connected to the trickster, Loki.

Merida shook her head, "Ye're crazy, Hiccup…"

He ducked a bit, nearly swallowing a mouthful of water.

"Yeah," he placed his fingers in his mouth, beginning to whistle and wave frantically.

"Ye seriously think that'll work?" Merida huffed, grabbing his arm and kicking for him, knowing that his metal leg certainly wasn't helping him keep afloat.

"Got'a better idea?" He huffed, strength already failing.

She couldn't think, kicking for the both of them.

He began to scream for his dragon and Merida quickly began to follow suit, worried they might drown before the dragons quit their fighting. They were shooting through the clouds, cawing and spewing plasma bolts through the calm blue of a promising afternoon.

"Well, this isn't working," Hiccup grabbed Merida, supporting each other, "Please tell me you can magic us out of here."

"I'm thinkin'," she sputtered, her head falling under the water before she popped back up.

"Think faster," Hiccup groused, sweating as he looked back upwards to see that the dragons have disappeared. He sputtered a half-laugh, shaking his head. If this is how he went out of this world, it would be oddly poetic.

"Maybe I could, um, send up a flare?"

"Might catch their attention, might not," he supplied, "Can you make us breathe water?"

"Tha's too much magic," she spat, "I do'nae have enough to change us both!"

"Oh, right, because you just _had _to give it all to your dragon!"

"Is this really the best time to lecture me?!" She shrieked.

Hiccup groaned, flailing a bit in the water.

"Wait! I have it!"

She wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, "Grab on'ta me!"

"I can't keep you—!"

"Shut up, ye bloody troll, and do as I tell ye!"

He grabbed her, pressing their bodies together solidly, the outline of her breasts against his chest and his hips pressing into hers muffling his panic at the situation for just a moment. Her breath fanned against his neck as she summoned her power, a feeling similar to when Toothless' lightning skirting along his head and neck. But it was somehow different, it was warmer, like standing near a bright flame instead of a crackling shock. The smell of autumn leaves and moss cut with the sweetness of apples seemed to radiate through the salty air.

Hiccup buoyed, suddenly weightless. He gasped, no longer having to kick to keep his head above water, but resting easily. He turned his face into her sodden curls, hoping that he could focus on her warmth and give her his own strength and power. Her fingers flexed along his shoulders, his breath hitching as her nails dug into the skin of his back like a lover.

He felt himself laughing, despite the creeping heat along his neck and cheeks. They were floating in the water, weightless and distinctly _not drowning. _

"By the gods," he whispered, her face in his neck and his in her hair, "You're amazing."

"Shut it," she murmured, muffled against his skin, "I got'ta concentrate…"

"Right," he gasped, still full of awe.

Her eyes closed, but he could still a phosphorescent outline that clung to her curls, the glow of her _seiðr. _It was much dimmer than it was before and it showed him that this was only a temporary solution and would not last them for too much longer.

Hiccup prayed, quietly, to Odin, that the dragons would settle their dispute and find them quickly. And that they would be mostly unharmed.

He reached into his own mind, drawn by the _righteous fury _that was pulsing somewhere behind his eyes. But it was not his own emotions and he wondered, briefly, if he could send a signal to Toothless. A connections flowed both ways, did it not? Could he influence his dragon, wherever he was among the clouds? Or could Toothless drown him out, much as he did so as not to become completely overwhelmed by his friend's emotions?

He focused on that anger and it filled him. He was suddenly so mad at Merida and her absolute _stupidity. _How could she dare challenge his Alpha? She knew literally nothing about dragons, but now considered herself such and expert as to deem herself worthy to outstrip him of his rank? It was ludicrous, laughable! She had been on the backs of dragons for not even _a day—_he'd been flying for _years! _She shows up and immediately began to put herself between him and Toothless and now they're here in the ocean about to _drown—_

He stopped himself, breathing deeply through his nose, the crispness of apples radiating from her powerful magic that was keeping his part-metal self _afloat. _Sure, she was running hot and cold, she was rude and distrusting and foul, but he knew that she was traumatized by other Viking tribes, her whole land had already been pillaged before this disaster even began. He knew he had to just keep picking away at her walls and, eventually, she'd cave—but screaming at her for things she didn't know wouldn't help either one of them at the moment. He had helped her and given her something that he himself had found salvation in and he had to make sure they got to see themselves out of this mess.

He had to save them both in this moment, because she couldn't keep holding on. Even now, the light she was emitting was getting duller, dimmer, as her power was fading with the effort to keep them afloat.

So he reached out to Toothless, summoning him, seeing him in his minds eye. He had a scratch along his chest and face where Saorsa had gotten him with her talons, but otherwise had avoided all six shots of her plasma. Hiccup knew that Toothless had only fired four and was a better, faster flier than her, especially without Merida on Saorsa's back. The same rush of violence filled him, demanding blood and scales and _submission. _She was weaker than him and she would _listen _and _obey. _He was the Alpha!

Hiccup pushed his way through these thoughts, struggling to overcome the anger that leeched into him. He started to shout in his mind, as loud as possible _danger, fear _and_ panic. _

He had to save them.

All of them.

If the dragons kept fighting, it could result in _all _of their deaths.

He kept at it, until the fury began to dissolve. There was a prickling along the back of his neck, like he was being watched, and he knew that Toothless' attention had been diverted.

Merida was shaking in his grip and he redoubled his efforts.

"Let up," he commanded, "I'll wade in the water, you can stop."

"Nay, I have ye…"

"Not for much longer, it's okay."

"But," she sagged and they dropped a few inches into the water, "We'll die…"

"No," Hiccup laughed, just as there was the scream of wings in the air. He looked up, around her salt-crusted locks, seeing two pairs of wings careening down on them both.

"Hold on tight," Hiccup commanded, seeing that there still seemed to be a race between the two dragons. She gripped him a bit tighter and pressed her face into his neck as Toothless reached them, plucking them from the water like two fish.

Saorsa flew underneath them, eyes upward on her rider.

"Ready?"

"Wha—Ah?!"

He dropped her and she landed with a screech of fury on the back of her dragon, hands scrabbling to get purchase.

Hiccup knew that both dragons were exhausted. He swung himself to Toothless' back before lowering them so that he was next to Merida, who was leaning against Saorsa, flagging under the loss of her magical power.

"Alright, no more distractions! No more arguments! No more dragon-shit!" Hiccup hollered at everyone, getting them in the right position to float mainly along strong oceanic gusts.

"We have another hour left in the air and the dragons are already tired," he admired her soaked body, hating himself for it, but continued, "So are you. We stay low, use the ocean breeze, we'll make it and we can all rest in the woods outside DunBroch. Can you keep your grip?"

She tied the remaining rope around her waist, fingers weak and limp. Her drooping eyes and sodden curls made her look even more listless as she draped herself across the back of her dragon. Merida nodded and Hiccup could see a few well placed gouges along her hide, matching Toothless, and they would need tending to once they reached solid land.

"Don't worry, bud," he murmured, "I have you. All of you."

* * *

**Berk**

The alarm was ringing.

_The alarm. _

Stoick was moving, wondering about Valka and Hiccup as he snatched his massive axe from its holder and leapt outside. Houses burned, the sound of children crying and screaming, and the deadly caw of dragons filled the air around him.

Dragons.

_Dragons_ were attacking the village, _dragons_ were attacking Berk. He knew that alarm, he knew the call for action, it had been ingrained in him since he was a young lad because he had been hearing it since he was an infant.

But his son, his Hiccup, had put a stop to it.

And he had not heard it in over six years.

Standing outside his home, Stoick stood, frozen. The village was chaos—it had been too long since they had an attack like this and everyone had forgotten posts and places. Even the onslaught of Drago was nothing compared to this, his unified force easily determined among the throng. But now they struggled to determine which Gronkle was an enemy and which was their beloved friend, which Monstrous Nightmare would burn down the village and which would allow them to ride upon its back.

The sky was ablaze with red and Stoick the Vast could not dare move.

"Husband!"

Valka landed fluidly with Cloudjumper, her face obscured by her mask. She lifted it as she approached.

"Val…?"

"I don' know what's going on either, but we must limit the damage!"

"Val," he was panicking, his mind reeling back to all the horror he had witnessed in his lifetime, the friends he'd burned, the wife he'd lost, the children that died.

"Val, what do we do…?"

She blinked, gasping. She reached out then, smacking him hard across the cheek with a swiftness that he forgot she possessed.

"Ye listen to me, my man," she pointed a gloved finger at him, "Ye get on Skullcrusher and ye use that thick head of yers _and _his and ye protect this gods-forsaken island!"

She grabbed him then, pressing their foreheads together.

"We will save our people, so that Hiccup has them to return to, do ye understand, husband?"

He nodded, gripping her hands in his, "Aye, my love."

"Good," she was back on her massive Stormcutter in a flash, "Go! Now!"

He turned and ran, finding his Rumblehorn frightening a maddened Gronkle away from a hoard of children. He scooped up five little ones in his arm and began to get them all together in the dragon arena, where they would be safe from other attacks. He took Skullcrusher across the village, directing and commanding just as he'd always done. Valka had the sky under control, her teams of flyers distracting the uncontrolled dragons and leading them away. When he faced off with those under the influence of someone's command, he felt a chill run down his spine at the familiarity of their pin-prick gaze. He knew their look, that maddened, mindless appearance that the dragons had so long ago when they were under the influence of the Red Death and then later by the Bewilderbeast.

Two monsters that his son had handled for them. Two giant threats that his young, gangly, awkward, sarcastic boy had put to rest for the village that could not manage it themselves. Now he was gone and he flailed like a child under the weight of fear, his wife having to remind him of his place among the village and its importance.

There was something in their jerky, uncoordinated movements that made attacking easier, so he trapped some of the easily handled beasts, chaining them down so that they could examine the malady that had overtaken them and perhaps find a way to stop it from happening again.

They would have no casualties tonight, he would make sure of it.

He and his dragon were the same: they would protect what is theirs with an unrivaled ferocity.

He cracked his aching neck when a Timberjack landed, slithering along the ground like a winged snake. Its massive wingspan opened with a caw of fury, venom spewing onto the chief's upturned shield. Skullcrusher's horns would do nothing against its razor-sharp wings and Stoick weighed the options of downing it forever.

"Shoot, boy!"

Skullcrusher sent out a massive burning fireball right across the dragon's eyes. It screamed in panic, immediately blinded as its retinas melted on contact, leaping awkwardly into the sky in an attempt to escape with its life. Its wings, basically flying swords, cut a hut in half and Stoick cursed as he gave chase. It would destroy everything in it's wake like this!

He reared back, praying to Odin that his aim was still true, and let his axe soar across the sky. It hit the poor beast across the temple, braining it and it fell heavily onto the ground. He reached it, falling to his knees at the loss of such a valiant, mighty creature.

He placed his hand along its long neck, green scales glimmering in the firelight and he felt his throat clench. Skullcrusher grumbled beside him, nudging the body with his massive horn and Stoick shooed him away. The dragon knew what hat to be done, it was a necessity to protect the village and other dragons, but it still struck Stoick.

His father must be laughing in Valhalla, disappointed in his boy, now a man, that mourned the life of a fallen dragon.

When he looked up, most of the dragons were either dead, chained down, or still fighting. It wasn't a raid, it was a massacre—there was no way to get through to them, no way to discourage their deaths, they were suicide fighters, commanded to weaken their defenses and destroy the village.

A rabble of younger boys and girls ran past, one with a massive Thunderdrum and Scauldron, the latter spewing water across a house fire and putting it out with a hiss. He stood and wiped his eyes, praising their efforts before running back into the fray.

They had no choice.

They could save a few, but most would have to die.

He would mourn the loss later, with his beloved wife by his side.

But for now he had to do what he was told—he had to fight for the village he commanded.

So he would swing his axe, he would slay dragons just as he used to, he would defend Berk as his father and his grandfather had.

And, all around him, the village burned.

* * *

They collected in the Great Hall, reeking of smoke and covered in soot, all eyes a sleepless, dead gaze that spoke of horrors they believed long past.

"What is goin' on, Stoick?!"

"How did this happen again?"

"Where's yer boy when we need him, Stoick?"

"Why are the dragons attacking again? Do we need to start fighting them again?!"

"Tell us, Stoick!"

He felt his shoulders heave. Valka had removed her helmet, and stood at the dais and raised her hands.

"I have lived with dragons for many years," she began, "And I have only seen something like this with an Alpha dragon. They were being controlled and, hopefully, after some time, they will return to normal."

There were more rumblings, calling his name. They wouldn't listen to her, the defector, the mother that abandoned her child, the chieftess that left her home and village. They would _(begrudgingly) _let her teach the children how to fly, but when it came to matters of loyalty, of protection, they would always look to him.

"We will observe the captured dragons," he commanded, "And we will repair the village. This was unlike the Red Death and unlike Drago—the dragons were told by someone or something to burn the village and crops and kill as many of us as possible. There have been some losses, mainly our dragons, which we will properly burn tomorrow at first light."

He looked at them all, one on one, "Until then, go home. Tend to your wounds, soothe your children and dragons, eat and drink and mourn our losses."

The village nodded, shooting tired glares at Valka, before shuffling out of the Great Hall to their respective homes. Stoick shook his head, nodding at Gobber who approached and patted his shoulder. When everyone had gone, he was handed a heavy tankard and sat down.

"Lookin' mighty shook up, eh, Stoick," Gobber replaced his hook with a prosthesis with a wooden mug on the end, "I's certainly been awhile since we had to go up against dragons."

"Gobber," he drank heavily, "I haven't had'ta kill a dragon in years. It was…not nearly as pleasant as I remember it being."

"Nay," Gobber agreed, pulling out a chair for Valka, who sat with a smile of thanks.

Gobber was the only one that did not hate Valka for her transgressions against the Hairy Hooligans. He had watched Hiccup grow into the awkward, stilted youth that Valka had been and, in a way, he attempted to rectify his wrongs to her through her pitiful son. Many of the village had been cruel to Valka, her oddities only growing more and more outward as she grew up. Hiccup was the same, but his stubborn nature was all his father—if he hand't had that, Gobber knew that the boy would have picked up and left soon after finding that dragon.

"Val…"

"I don't know," she rubbed her neck, "I'm sorry, I just don't. It didn't seem like an Alpha to me."

"I've never seen their eyes look like tha'," Gobber slurped heavily, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm.

"What do ye mean, Gobber?" Stoick sighed, "They always look like tha' when they're controlled."

"Nay," Gobber shook his head, "They look like a cat eyes, little devils. But these were…small, little circles, like pebbles, ye know?"

Valka leaned into her hand, "He's right…"

"So, this…we haven't faced this before."

"Nay," Gobber stared into his ale, perhaps looking for a lost tooth.

"We don't know how to handle this."

"Nay, and we don't really have the resources and I don' think we've seen the last of them."

There was silence between the three.

Valka reached out and grabbed Stoick's hand, "Husband…"

"No."

"Stoick," she pleaded, "We need him."

"We do not need Hiccup to solve all of our problems. Did we not command this village long before he came into this world? Did we not fight dragons? Did ye not train them?"

Gobber rolled his eyes and sighed, "Oh, aye, and we were cowerin' savages hidin' out in our huts, trying to get a decent nights sleep and begging Odin not to take one of the wee ones, or burn the crops and starve us that winter, or wonderin' where this family would go 'cause their father was gone or if we could afford more lumber from the traders. Do ye not remember, Stoick?"

"Of _course _I remember!" He banged his fist on the table, glowering at an entirely unimpressed blacksmith.

"But what I remember most? The pyres, the ships, the bodies we burned—the elders and the children the adults trying to save who they could. I remember the ships we sent out looking for that nest, one which my father took and never returned on. I remember the horrors, Gobber, and we cannot do it again, not after how far we've come."

"And why is that, _old man?_" Gobber stood, hands on the table, challenging.

"It was all due to yer boy, _yer son_, who I raised!"

Stoick sat back, eyes wide as Valka stared, questioning, between them.

"Do ye know what I remember most about those damn raids, Stoick? I remember _Hiccup. _Who ye'd leave, crying in his crib, who I'd keep warm by the forge while you were off saving the village without a thought to yer babe! I remember teaching him to weld and beat metal into something, hoping that it would help him grow, or by the gods, give him somethin' of his own, at least! I remember him coming to me and Gothi after every beatin' he got, sometimes by the kids, aye, but sometimes at the hands of adults! He never said a word to ye, did he? But did ye bother askin' where all them bruises came from? Eh?"

His chest heaved, his shoulders clawing forward.

"I remember his sharp tongue, his damn stubborn nature, his secrets and tears…I know him better than either of ye. Ye both ran, ye both went hidin' away where ye felt safest, but I was there and ye can ask Gothi if ye doubt me, Valka. I held him when he cried, I taught him to be strong, I made him laugh when he was cast out time and time again. I knew him. I did. And where were _ye?_"

He threw his arm out, making the prosthetic dislodge and fly across the room to bang into the wall.

"_Ye_ were off drinkin' or with the council and _ye _were hidin' out in a dragon den, caring for hatchlings instead of yer own young. Did ye ever think about yer boy? Even once? Because I remember his first word—do ye?"

They were silent, staring at the table.

"It was, eh…" he scratched his head with his one hand, "Was _'fire,' _it was. He said it when I was stokin' the bellows. And I was there when he walked, nearly took his foot off with a sword…I took him out into the woods to hunt and fish, I taught him everything he knew. He grew into a fine blacksmith, a damn fine blacksmith by the time he was twelve. And he was respected, at least in that. I could'nae make him a chief, but I could make him a good man.

"And I'm tired of him runnin' off because ye won't leave him be, Stoick. He does'nae want this Thor-blasted island and why would he? No one cared about him 'til he was on the back of that Nightfury, savin' everyone left and right. He saw freedom and he took and I don't blame him and neither should ye. The world was too small for him when he was lad and now he finally has the chance to see it, _all of it._ And I want him to go, to reach his hands out and fill himself to the brim with the world and ye know what I think? My opinion matters more than either of ye—!"

"I am his_ father, _Gobber!"

"Nay!" He screamed back in his face, "Ye are his _sire_ and no more. I fathered that boy. Not ye. He told me months before he left that he wanted to go and I made damn sure he went."

Valka sputtered, "Ye told him to go?"

He scrubbed at his face with his one hand, "Nay, but I told him he should. He said he wanted to go, he was dyin' here, suffocatin', that's what he said. So I told him to get his things and go, go explorin'. He needed it," his voice softened, "Like ye did, I suspect."

Tears fell from her green eyes, just like Hiccups, as bright and iridescent as the back of summer beetles.

"If I had known…I would have _taken him_…"

Gobber spoke before Stoick could injure their relationship further, "And isolate him forever? There was no good solution, lass."

"Except staying…"

Gobber sighed, "Aye. That would have helped him. But if ye had taken him with ye, Stoick would have lost a son and a wife that night and, most likely, Berk would not be standin' here now."

There was silence, like the moment between blows on an anvil, filled with tension and the threat of violence.

"I'm sendin' a Terror," Gobber finally spat, "It'll find him and bring him home…until then, we have to withstand this on our own.

"But after this," he warned, replacing his hook hand, "We won't bother him again. He'll come and be chief if it pleases him and if doesn't," he shrugged, "Then he'll do something else that does."

"And, by Odin's sole eye," he spat, "Neither one of ye will stop him."

And he thudded out into the night.

* * *

**Chapter Five, complete!**


	7. Chapter Six: Home

**I do not own **_**Brave **_**or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Six: Home

**DunBroch**

They pushed on to DunBroch. Hiccup wanted to stop at one point to rest, but she denied him. She wanted to be home, she screamed over the wind.

_Home. _

It had been years since he had felt that Berk was his home, so he rarely missed it. He found his home to be under the stars, the only structures he needed being tall trees against an inky sky, not walls and roofs. He found home in people and dragons, not places and things. But that was not the way for everyone, unfortunately.

The castle was even more impressive from the ground. The great stone walls and spires looked solid, heavy, as if their weight was a burden to the earth that supported it. Hiccup could tell what type of dragon struck where just by the scorch marks alone—the deepest ones were Gronkles, while the wider spread were most likely Monstrous Nightmares, and the short, collective blasts were Nadders. Somehow, though, without the bustling of villagers, like bees in an active hive, it appeared grayer, as if a lifeless husk.

Merida paused outside the gates, now marred with strikes of axes and hammers and swords. Her hands stroked the wood, as if a beloved horses' scooped back. But after a moment and with some strength she threw them open, falling forward with the force. She stumbled inside, to her knees before she got up slowly and painfully, observing the state of her once home. He could tell by her gait alone how exhausted she was, how much energy she had used keeping them afloat a few hours before.

Hiccup wanted to reach out, to cover her eyes, to pull her close and beg her to escape with him back to the woods to rest. He wanted to protect her, if just for a few moments, to gather her strength before she had to face these horrors.

There were bodies littering the streets, struck down to lay where the could find a space to rest for eternity. It had been too long and they were infested now with flies and maggots, bloated and swollen, black and purple. One lay to her left, his head cleaved in half while another woman up the hill towards the castle was imbedded with at least a dozen arrows, another with multiple hammer wounds that broke him to chunks. They were all facing away, having run from the invaders until they were struck down.

It was a sight Hiccup knew well.

He closed his eyes to the reminder of why he had left his home, the Viking Confederate, his culture and namesake.

Merida did not scream, nor cry, or lash out against him. Instead she bowed her head and began to count, lowly, under her breath. She marked the bodies, kept track of them, perhaps to engrave on a memorial stone to remember them once it was all over or perhaps to store them deep within her heart to mourn. She seemed to stop only twice in recognition, but turned away quickly, eyes and fists clenched in sorrow and rage.

The castle was not much better. The tables were overturned, casks of fine mead and wine tossed around, soaking the floor and the many stuffed bear skins had been torn apart to litter the hall. The dais and the thrones were imbedded with weapons, their decorations destroyed, their meaning along with it. Her hands hovered over her father's, but pulled away before she could touch it, a soft gasp from her mouth as she faced him.

"The bodies…"

He stood behind her, hands itching to move but not daring.

"We must…get rid of the bodies first."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. They went back out into the sweltering afternoon where he unearthed a half-burned barrow that once held bushels of hay, back near the empty stables. It took them both, working together, to put each corpse in the back before wheeling down to the next one. It was long, difficult, disgusting work that had them both sweating and cursing within an hour.

The dragons were upset by the smell of death and other species' fire, so Hiccup sent them to the nearby loch to catch fish and rest after such a tiring flight.

It was exhausting work, but it reminded him of the old raids back home, where he and the others had to rid the bodies from the streets in the early morning before the rest of the village would begin repairs. It was bad when the bodies were only hours old, stiff with rigor mortis and stuck in never ending terror, but these gelatinous melted cadavers were much worse and they had to be careful they didn't burst open.

Merida, to her credit, did not flinch away or cry at the gaseous, gooey mess that her people had become. She would whisper names sometimes, or tell him that this woman ran a stall of apples and one couldn't find them sweeter, while this man was the local cobbler and made the finest leather boots, and this man had twelve babies, all daughters, if he could dare believe it. And, in a way, he mourned with her. It was easier when you just looked at the bodies like a job, like wood that had to be moved from one area to the next, but when you put a name to the face it made everything much harder.

The wounds were, even to him, garish and monstrous. Mostly axe and hammer wounds, which were the worst. The hammers, especially, made to bash and break, which never could result in a clean death. Most of the wounds were headshots, however, and were at least quick. But the resulted spew of gray matter had even him heaving at some point, both of them sickly green as they wheeled the corpses to a field outside the city walls.

"I'll get the shovels," Merida muttered, turning to go back to the castle.

"Shovels?"

"Aye," she snapped, not looking back, "To bury them."

"Merida," he hobbled to her, his stump aching, his hand reaching for her, "Merida, to dig a hole that big, for all of them, it would take us _days_."

"I don'nae care!" She snarled, "It's what we do! Technically we build tombs, but I don'nae know how to do such a thing, so we'll have to just dig until…"

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, her hands covered in gore.

"Merida…we should burn them."

"How can I do what _ye_ do? How can I treat my dead like _yers?_ That would be cruel…"

His hand fell on her shoulder, "They're gone now, they're souls are…somewhere better, right? So the bodies don't matter."

"Of course they do!" She screamed, cheeks bright red, "The body must be _whole_ to go to Heaven!"

"It does?"

There were definitely some people with missing limbs. Him and her father included, perhaps they would attend Valhalla together instead of this odd Heaven place. Didn't her gods know that life was dangerous?

"Aye! And I can'nae fail them twice! So we _dig!_"

"Merida," he grabbed her again, "We can't dig a hole here. It's dangerous, if the bodies get into a local river or well water it could endanger other populations. I know it-it-it's hard, so…I'll do it, I'll take care of it. But burning them is the most logical answer."

All he could hear was her heavy breathing.

"Then we'll…! We'll take them somewhere else!"

"It's too heavy, even between us both. We barely made it here."

"We can ask the dragons—!"

"The corpses are too far gone," he bent slightly to look her in the eyes, his hands on her shoulders, "The smell is too strong and they won't be able to withstand it."

She sighed and then groaned deeply.

"Damn ye," she muttered, "Damn ye and yer logic."

He could have laughed if it wasn't such a shit situation.

"Your gods will forgive them. They'll go to…Hee-ven."

She sighed, exasperated.

"Let's just get this done."

They collected hay and dry moss in the fields around them for tinder and then moved further into the woods for larger twigs and sticks. The late, hazy afternoon turned into a sweltering sunset as they piled the wood into a massive pyre.

"Ready?" He asked, holding a striker and chunk of flint.

"Aye, give it here," she offered her hand and he hesitated, "Oh, for Christ's sake, Hiccup, just give it to me!"

"Okay, fine! Here!"

She took them with a yank and stood, bowing her head and muttering something over them before hitting the two stones together a few times to get the hay started, feeding it with moss and twigs before it began to truly climb.

"We'll need to get downwind," Hiccup maneuvered them away but she stopped, legs shaking under the weight.

"I can'nae leave them…not again."

He nodded, despite the ache behind his eyes and in his shoulders, the itch of the blood all over his hands and the sharp stab of his prosthesis.

"Alright. We'll see them off."

She sat and curled up, watching the flames rise higher and higher into the setting sun. He followed suit after awhile, realizing that they were going to be out until dark. The smell was like burning pork or yak meat, the rot stench somewhat overpowered by the smell of fire. He wanted to talk, to distract himself or maybe her, he wasn't sure.

"What…is Heaven?"

"It's…it's where ye go after ye die. It's this perfect place where ye never grow old, or go hungry, or hurt again. If yer good, that is…"

Hiccup scoffed, "Good?"

"Aye, ye ken it…If ye don't hurt people on purpose, or steal from yer neighbors, or want what other people have."

"That just sounds like everyday on Berk. Where do people go if they're not good?"

"There's this place called Hell where ye're always in pain, being tortured or some shite like that."

"Hel? Like the goddess?"

"What? No, like the place, ye daffy."

"No, Hel is a goddess, not a place."

This became a mainly one-sided discussion in theology, where Hiccup began to tell her the beginning of the world through the eyes of his people. The great god, Ymir, was slaughtered by the Aesir gods, Odin at the lead, who took his body and laid it out piece by piece, to form the world: his blood became the dark seas, his hair the crops, his flesh the soil, his brains the clouds, and the great curve of the sky from the inside of his skull, held aloft by four dwarves. He told her about the Nine Realms that hung, like ripe apples, on the branches of Yggdrasil. He told her of the gods, Odin and his dear wife Frigg, their son Thor and the adopted Jotunn, Loki, and his deeds to spur on Ragnarok, the end of all that is known.

"Hel is his daughter with the giantess Angrboda, and she rules over those that died dishonorably and were not welcomed in Valhalla, the Great Hall of Odin, where warriors that died in battle wait to be called by his horn to fight the final battle. Just as he unleashes his forces, so does she and the battle will rage so violently that the earth will turn to ice and the sky to fire and the world shall be reborn again."

Perhaps he just wanted to fill the space between the crackling and spitting of the flames slowly consuming the bodies, but he was suddenly incredibly aware that he was not improving the silence.

"Valhalla does'nae sound so great…"

He laughed, "Well, the always ready for battle part doesn't seem all that interesting but until then you can drink and eat and dance and sing as much as you want, you are free from pain and sorrow, just like your…Heaven-place," he gestured wildly when he didn't know what to say exactly, "And, y'know, you're _made whole again_. You don't have to be in one piece to get there."

She murmured, eyes drooping, "It makes since. It's better tha' way."

He nodded, sighing at the darkened sky. He was starving, itchy and exhausted in more ways than one. She was faring probably worse since their unexpected dip in the ocean.

She nearly fell to the side and he stood, offering her a hand.

"Come on," he whispered, "Let's go."

"I can't," she choked, eyes bright and wet, "I can'nae leave them."

"You have to, Merida," he knelt, taking her hand in his, "You have to leave this behind. They stayed because they believed in you."

"What a mistake_ that_ was," she closed her cerulean eyes.

Hiccup hated her like this. Give him seething rage, give him screaming hatred, give him tears even—just no more of _this. _No more simpering and sighing and letting the world take her down. No more quiet acceptance, like being drug under the waves and carried off to Thor knows where. He wanted the Dragon Queen, the Valkyrie, the Monstrous Nightmare in human flesh, all teeth and claws and fire. He wanted the girl who was worth the trust of a Nightfury, who had handled dragon fire like a toy. He wanted to be burned by her, to face her fire in all its forms.

He pulled her up and she complied.

"Come on," he tugged her back towards the castle, "Come _on._"

She followed, listless and blank, like a doll. They hobbled back up the hill and into the castle walls, where she guided him down to the kitchens. The stores had been raided, but this was no place for a Viking and was left bare, but fairly undisturbed. She brought out a massive tub that she set up beside the hearth, which they set to a roaring flame. He brought in pails of water to fill a cauldron that she put over the flames, warming the water. They cleaned their hands with rough stones and soap in another bucket, ridding themselves of as much blood and sweat and sea salt as they could.

"Is this some sort of potion?" He asked and she let out a tired chuckle.

"Nay, I need a bath, a proper one," she eyed him sideways, "And so do ye."

He knew that was true.

"I wonder if there's anythin' left," she wandered into a massive pantry, digging around and emerging with a handful of apples that were a few days past their prime and a couple pieces of stale flatbread that she presented to him.

"They aren't the best bannocks DunBroch can offer ye, but that's all she has for now."

"I'll take 'em," he smiled gently, looking for mold spots before he tucked in, happy to have anything in his stomach.

The night was leaning towards oppressive, the silence bearing down on the castle as thick as the black blood in the cadavers they burned.

When the water steamed, she used a long tool to tip the water _(half of it across the floor) _into the tub. She tried to get him to leave the room, but the castle was dark and he was somehow able to convince her _(she was too damn tired to fight back)_ to let him sit on the other side of the room, facing the dark shadows by the ovens.

He heard the water splash against the stone floor and her deep sigh of contentment.

He had to fill the silence.

_He had to. _

"Y'know um, uh, th-there are island full of hot springs, massive pools, steaming hot where you can sit in them for hours."

He could hear the water against her skin, running through her hair.

"I'll show you some of my favorite places before we reach Berk."

She hummed, "I think…I'd like that."

"Yeah! There's so many places, so many _dragons _for you to see. Timberjacks with wings like swords that can raze a whole forest in a single glide! A Triple Stryke, with its braided tail, has three distinct venoms it can inflict either separately or simultaneously! I mean, Hel, you haven't even seen a Gronckle yet! Or a Zippelback!"

"How many are there?"

"Species? Who knows!" His excitement filled him, "But I'm going to find out. That's what I do. I catalogue and categorize and describe each dragon I come across."

"So…ye have a book?" She sounded speculative, thoughtful.

"Yes! I'll show it to you, every-every picture, every statistic I've made, everything!"

He rambled,

"And there are so many fantastic places to go, a thousand—maybe two thousand! Islands that are bound to have more dragons. There are tiny ones, no bigger than your finger," he had to stop himself from turning around, "And some are so big that they could rival this castle!"

She scoffed, "Ye lie! There's no way!"

"No!" He laughed, "There's so many out there and so many more…I can't help but wonder if there are even some here."

She sighed, and there was more splashing, "Nothing like that here, or I'd have found it."

"With magic?"

"No, boy-o," he could _hear _her roll her eyes, "I have roamed every hill and valley, climbed every tree and swam in every loch of DunBroch. If there was anything here that was even _close_ to a dragon, I'd have seen it by now."

He hummed, "I don't know, dragons can be pretty slick when they want to be," he teased, "Maybe you were just too loud, stomping through the forest and firing arrows at trees."

She sputtered, "Saorsa thought I was good enough!"

He laughed, "Because she likes your brusque nature!"

"I am _not_ brusque!" There was a splash where she most definitely smacked the water.

"Oh, forgive me, _Your Highness," _he egged her on, "I forgot that your manners would never _permit _such behavior!"

She gave a particularly unladylike snort as she chuckled, "Shut yer gob!"

"Oh, of course," he spoke loftily, "_Your Highness!" _

She laughed again and he felt the knot in his chest unwind, if only a kink or so.

"Tell me more," she asked after a moment, "About all the great places ye've been."

He told her about some of the best places he had visited, the barren islands full of dragons and the massive cities and tiny port towns that offered them all the freedom of anonymity. He told her about some of the most memorable dragons he had met, like Smidvarg, the albino Night Terror that was incredibly fond of Toothless, the desperate fight against the veracious Bone-Napper, the beautiful call of the Death Song.

"You know, I think you'd like Glacier Island, despite the freezing temperatures. And, well-well, when it gets cold, we can see if there's a mating island for Toothless and Saorsa or go to one of the others, or-or we'll make our own."

"Eh…a mating island?"

"For the dragons!" He yelped, knowing that she couldn't see him blush in the darkness but that didn't make his cheeks any cooler.

"They leave during Snoggletog, _of course_—"

"During _what?"_

"Snoggletog!" Safe territory, _thank Thor_, "We build a massive wooden pyre and decorate it with our traditional shields, we sing songs and feast for hours, make sacrifices to the gods for a good spring, and we all make a trip to the hilly region of the island, called Uppsala, where we praise the gods with our priestess, Gothi, at a temple that our ancestors built."

He didn't feel the need to mention that every nine years they sacrifice a person and the only reason he wasn't given to the gods was because he was the chief's son.

"We just celebrate Christmas…"

"Never heard of it."

"Oh, we decorate trees and cover the palace with lights, tell stories, eat and drink, and we get presents. It's really about the death and rebirth of Jesus Christ, but for the most part we just sit by the fire and hope for summer…Or I do, anyway."

There was a lot of water everywhere and the rustle of some fabric, probably his cloak to cover her naked body.

"I'm going to bed. Ye should sleep here, it's probably warmer and ye won't get lost. I'll find ye later."

He went to wish her goodnight but the door was already closing on him. He sighed as he stood, hobbling to the tub that was mostly dirty water. He could use it, since reheating more water would take more wood and more trips to the well and that was a lot of work.

But, if he didn't, he'd be sitting in the same water she was, the same water that had brushed against her naked skin, had fallen through her fiery hair, slipped down the valley of her breasts and had surrounded her supple thighs and full hips and round ass—

_'__More water,' _he decided, stomping back out into the dark.

* * *

Hiccup ended up finding a washing board and set about scrubbing both sets of his clothes in the tub before he himself got in. This was an uncomfortable task to complete fully clothed and doing so naked was somehow twice as difficult but he believed this would make his life much easier come morning. While his hands were busy, he tried to think about where Toothless and Saorsa were instead of the fact that the princess had returned to her bedroom with only a robe around her body.

Hiccup knew that he had to get control of the situation and quickly. He was attracted to her, that was for sure—but this wasn't something he had experienced in years. Astrid was miles and moons behind him, most of his experiences with women were short and wildly lived before he was upward and onward to another city, another island, another world. But he was _stuck _with Merida and, unfortunately, she was just his type: spirited, outspoken, proud, violent, and beautiful. Her fearlessness was something he both admired and wanted to experience up close and intimately.

But he knew that her idealism was close to that of his old partner, which had come between them both long ago. But whereas Astrid performed her duties out of pride and true love of her village, Merida appeared reluctant. There was a resignedness to her actions, despite her sorrow at the loss of her people. But she relished the freedom that he gave her, not her_ seiðr, _not her rank or position or blood, not her castle walls, but that _he _offered. He saw her joy, her exhilaration whilst in the air, the way that she had burst open like too ripe fruit. It softened her in a way that made her far more appealing than he originally believed, the way her shoulders and face relaxed and her airy smile rivaled the clouds.

And this event, this horrible event, may come into his favor. It was a cruel thing to consider, but Hiccup looked at every piece on the board, be it shield, axe, hammer, or mace. This was something that would scar her for the rest of her life, something that may be bad enough to frighten her away from taking the throne. She mentioned her father as if he was still alive, plus she had three younger brothers that would be heirs should she decide that she was unwilling. If Hiccup could, somehow, convince her that life with him was better than being trapped inside these stone walls, perhaps she would consider both leaving this life as well as his partnership.

The thought continued to jar him. He was barely open to offer himself to girls, as they usually offered themselves quite willingly. He hadn't desired a companion since Astrid, mainly because he enjoyed his ability to pick up and leave whenever he wanted, but also because he found them to be less than perfect matches. He believed that he found his soulmate, who still lingered on a doomed island, dedicated to a lost cause. But now he was trying to figure out a way to manipulate Merida into staying with him, which was also very unlike his sense of justice and morality.

Sure, he had told Toothless to demand the female accompany the crew because it was a necessity—where else would they find another Nightfury? But women were everywhere and Hiccup could have handfuls should he want them.

He rolled his neck and stifled a groan.

He didn't want them.

He wanted a stupid, stubborn, annoying, brilliant, fearless, red haired princess that was more like him than he wanted to admit.

Because Merida was different. Different than Astrid, he told himself, although the similarities were incredibly striking. Their blue eyes, loud mouths and penchant for violence was just a start. But Merida had a lost, soulful quality that he connected with right away, as soon as he saw her up close in the woods. He also found himself seeing a common recklessness, a rush at the maddest things they did, always willing to push the envelope and what was demanded of them. They were those that redefined boundaries and expectations and defied those that tried to contain them. He believed that if he could spirit her away, show her the amazing opportunities that await them out in the wide, open world, that she would leave and never look back.

But if she didn't want to leave her home, if she didn't desire a life of freedom, he hesitated to immediately dismiss her and proclaim to himself that he'd pick up and leave her and not bother her again.

His hands stilled in the soapy water.

He hadn't once considered stopping, not since Gobber had given him his full consent and blessing to travel. But, now, with this girl who he had only known for four days _(despite it feeling like it had been at least a year since it all began)_, he was beginning to think that he could return every once in awhile, maybe for a few weeks at a time, before picking up and moving on again. And, maybe she would accompany him, if her family didn't mind.

He got soap in his eye from how hard he slapped the water at his own stupidity.

She was a _princess. _

Not an _heir, _like himself or Dagur or Camicazi. She was assured rule, unless she declined it. No royal family would allow their princess, married or not, to pick up and run off into the sunset with another youth, perhaps to return or perhaps to die. Sometimes he wondered how Astrid and Ruffnut were allowed to spend days on end with him and the other boys on The Edge, but then he remembered that his riders followed no orders, not even his.

Hiccup's sensitive hearing picked up the scream of wings and he knew that the two dragons were racing once more, the same desire to _run _and _soar _and _go, go, go! Faster! _pumped through his veins. He had to forcefully smother that desire as he slipped into the still steaming tub of fairly fresh water and began to soak his tired muscles in the bath. His stump was aching as he draped it across the wooden edge and he wondered, idly, if he was outgrowing it so soon after his last one. His eyes fell to his thigh, the one that had been sliced open and nearly brought him down for eternity.

It was smooth. There was not a single mark, no mar in his skin, save a few nicks he had acquired during his early blacksmithing days. Feeling his hands shake at the thought of just how close he came to never riding through the sky again, he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the water running through his hair. With his eye closed, it somehow changed to the feeling of wind brushing across his skin and he sighed. Although he had come closer to Hel than even the Red Death, he couldn't deny the fact that being this close to Toothless was something that he could only dream. Within a moment, he was down from chasing another dragon in the sky and back in the tub.

It was good to rinse off the salt and gore and sweat that had collected throughout the day. It had been a long one, but there hasn't been an easy moment since the two females had flown into his life. Between Saorsa challenging Toothless as Alpha to Merida constantly challenging his patience, he wondered if it was his damn Loki driven want for chaos that made him desire her so much. She gave him a boost of adrenaline just from walking into a room, his heart hammering in his chest that demanded he pay her his full attention. If he knew for sure he had never consumed anything made by her or her deceased mistress, he'd believe that she had enchanted him.

Hiccup found himself laughing at the madness, the absurdity of it all.

He had been free for so long, flying over oceans and never daring to land.

Now he was earthbound until he could convince her to fly away with him.

Because he dared not leave her.

Not now.

* * *

Merida didn't need a light to make it back to her room. She knew the pathway by heart, after so many midnights she had escaped to Moira's cottage to perform and practice spells and rights under the moon. She thought it odd that the palace seemed mainly the same—besides the throne room, the hallways were not full of broken glasses or full of blood.

She felt as though the palace was ruined.

As if the walls ran with blood, the floors were naught but splinters and the walls pebbles. The hallways reeked of fetid flesh, the streets of DunBroch were paved with the skulls of the dead. Every stall along the main road was full of rotted corpses, every tree and bush and vine grew bones and bits of flesh. The whole land seemed forsaken, full of death and decay and even the heather would never be as bright or as sweet smelling again.

She paused at her own door, afraid of what disaster she may find within. She cared little for her jewels and finery, but she still had several bows and a spear she treasured greatly. Her father's sword was somewhere in the glens, likely to turn to rust and be found many years later by some poor lad traipsing around, finding himself so lucky to stumble upon a sword of a great king to play with.

She put her hand on the wood, pausing when there was some kind of carving under her palm. She couldn't see it, but it was deeply engraved. She passed through and inside, seeing the reason why it seemed that it remained mainly untouched. They had obviously come in search for goods and somehow managed to tip her exposed cauldron onto the floor, spilling her brew. It hummed faintly of her magic, the green substance making the room glow an eerie hue and smell faintly of pine and oak leaves.

It must have scared them away and they warned the others to not dare step inside.

She opened her cabinets and her jewelry box, out of mere curiosity. Sure enough, her diadem and her jewels all lay within. A logical part of her mind realized these would be good to sell once she and Hiccup left the castle and began the journey towards his home, as it would buy them quite a few necessities if not many nights of comfort at an inn. Her many dresses, both elaborate and mundane, were hung in a neat row along with a collection of slippers and boots for any want or occasion.

She let the borrowed cloak slide off her shoulders, landing at her feet with a muffled thud. She relished in the cool night air as it brushed against her flushed skin, the palace furnaces and many fireplaces sitting dark and cold and keeping it drafty. She put on a cotton shift, sighing at the familiarity of the feeling.

Her potion still gurgled and burped fat bubbles, just at a much slower pace than normal. It stretched across her floor, soaking into the small carpet in her room and stretching near the right side of her bed. She shrugged at it and sighed as she crawled into bed and put her exhausted head against her pillow.

She was home.

But it no longer felt right or safe or comfortable. She felt displaced, uneven, as though the world had turned and she was in somewhere _like_ DunBroch, but different. She knew how she had felt and what she believed she should feel now, but it was nothing like what she wanted. She had pushed them, had encouraged the dragons and Hiccup to make it past the coast of Scotland back behind the walls of her home, believing that once they arrived, everything would fall into place and she could begin to make things right.

But after today, she did not believe that the world, at least her own, would ever be the same again. And it was colder, darker, and crueler than she believed it could be—she saw DunBroch in honeyed sunlight and trees that stretched for miles, of blue-gray lochs and magic that could change queens into bears. But now she thought of bloody sunsets filled with alarms, bodies that littered the ground, the grey matter of brains across the ground, and the eternal shroud of death.

She wanted to cry but her face and eyes remained dry and itchy. She rubbed at them, bringing her knees up to her chest and curling in on herself as she closed her eyes and begged for sleep to come.

And in the early hours of morning, it finally did.

* * *

Hiccup hummed as he explored the foggy DunBroch compound. The invaders had left quite a mess behind, but he found a forge that was mainly left alone and a few bushels of apples that were sure to please the princess. Perhaps if he hadn't spent so much time alone on islands filled with only fairly hostile predators, he'd find the abandoned stalls and homes to be haunting, if not downright disturbing. But he had been in much stranger places with much worse atmosphere, so it bothered him little as he went scavenging around the walled city.

Toothless was still sleeping from a late night flight in a warm pile of hay near the stables, Saorsa finding a bed somewhere up near the high spires to spend the rest of the day. Hiccup had barely slept but felt rested enough, knowing that there was much to do in order to get them ready to move out. He needed to find some leather and start on a saddle to keep Merida on Saorsa's back, something that would keep her hands basically free to use her bow and maybe include something to keep her arrows in so they wouldn't tumble out when she performed aerial tricks. She needed armor as well, if she didn't already have some, and a helm so that she didn't eat any bugs or go half blind while riding.

If he could find the supplies here, he could most likely finish it all within a week and a half, juggling all three projects. If he had to tan hide or see if he could collect enough stray scales from the dragons, or if Merida suddenly felt as though she couldn't leave, it would take quite a bit longer.

She had yet to appear and the day was growing into a hazy, too warm early afternoon. He considered looking for her, but despite the emptiness of the place, it still felt like another invasion of her home and privacy. So he kept to himself, foraging and pocketing useful tools and materials that he believed he could use later.

He also began to scour the compound for clues to show her, progress he'd made towards her goal. He wasn't sure he wanted to get so much involved with her war, but he had little choice. If the threat was encroaching across her homeland, she wouldn't stop until she knew her people were safe without her there to defend them. This meant that the problem had to be eradicated, not just go away. Hiccup didn't like killing, but he could admit when it was a necessity.

He found three abandoned shields and two broken swords that were of clear Viking make. The shields had basic symbols, runes and a dragon curling around one, while the others were general knot work that failed to point him in any direction. The sword, however, was engraved with runes at the hilt that read,

_'__Hail, Storm-bringer! Look aloft and be struck down.' _

It was an ominous message, but Hiccup had not heard of a Viking wielding a sword entitled Storm-Bringer. It was finely made, but it had been older and had thusly shattered after a particularly violent blow. He decided to keep the hilt that he found, knowing it would be a good item to reveal to travelers in dark corners of a tavern and maybe someone had seen it before, while the metal would be melted down to use for Merida's armor.

He wandered further and found a few long pieces of leather which he brought back to the forge. He stoked the bellows and decided to get to work, seeing as how the princess was sure to wander down at some point and he needed something to keep his hands busy.

He began making plans, the images of the bodies along the roadway still visible behind his eyelids.

* * *

**Berk**

Astrid drew blood from her cuticles, unable to stop herself as she continued to rip more and more skin away with her teeth.

The dragons.

She had never seen anything like it in all her days. They had captured six in all, two Nadders, a Monstrous Nightmare, a Gronckle, a Thunderdrum, and Zippleback. They had fought and raged against their chains, but did not ever think to blast them with their powerful fire, merely tugging and pulling until they had shorn away all their scales and made themselves bleed and ache.

But that was last night.

Now they all stood, still as stone and beady eyes moving and roving in every direction. No part of their bodies moved save their necks, taking in every curious villager and child, every hut and house, every passersby.

It was terrifying.

It was like they were scoping the area, taking in all the information the village provided, looking for weak spots in their defense.

_'__But they're trapped,' _her head ached, _'Who could they report to?'_

When Stoick had arrived, eyes rimmed red _(from smoke, no doubt) _he took one look and ordered someone find his wayward wife. Some may have wondered why he himself was not aware of her location, but they kept that thought to themselves as villagers scrambled to their own dragons and took to the air while others combed the earth to find the chieftess.

He stood next to her for a moment before muttering, "Blindfold them."

She took an unsteady breath, "What?"

"Get up there and blindfold them. Or take their eyes out," he turned away, "Either way, don't let them see any more."

She gasped but nodded, shaking. She got a hold of stray cloth and climbed atop her Stormfly and immediately began to wrap their eyes with it. The first didn't move, so eerily still, but the others began to whip and deny her access to their faces. She attempted dragon nip and the soft spot under their chins, even the striped eel, nothing seemed to respond to them in a way that she knew they should. Eventually, she enlisted the others to help wrestle them to the ground, or use the dragons to force them into submission, before she was able to thoroughly blind the rest.

Sweating and cursing, Astrid dismounted.

"Fishlegs, tell me you have something for me," she demanded, hands on her hips.

"I've gone through everything I have discussed with Valka," he shook his head, "There is nothing like this. It's not a queen, or an Alpha dragon, not that we've seen. The eyes are wrong."

She bit her nails, "I was afraid of that," she murmured around her cuticle.

There was a moment of silence.

"Well," Ruffnut gave her attention to Astrid, "Tell us what to do."

This was how things were now. She had been second to Hiccup, his general, his advisor, his partner. But once he left, she was appointed head of the team and they didn't answer to anyone but her, not even Stoick had the same respect.

"For now, we wait."

Once blindfolded, the dragons had stopped moving and had once again remained entirely still, making no noise or any sound. They didn't eat or sleep and she wondered how long this had been going on from the looseness of the skin around their bellies and the deepness of their eyes.

"If they're reporting back to someone…" she began, a heaviness settling in her stomach that made it hard for her to speak.

"They can't leave," Snotlout finished, eyes downward.

And if they couldn't train them, that meant they had to die.

Wind hit the team with great gusts and they raised their arms to cover their eyes as the great StormCutter landed. Valka dismounted, removing her helmet and moving with purpose to the group of dragons. She began to stroke their hide, pulling at loose scales, inspecting teeth and claws with a critical and trained eye that no one else had on the island.

Well, not anymore.

She moved away with shaking legs, her eyes filled with furious tears. Green eyes, like her sons, found Astrid's bright blue.

"They're half-starved, near death," she spat, "Why have ye not fed them?"

"We tried," the younger woman raised her chin, but her brows lowered, "They won't eat."

"Why did ye blind them, then?"

"Ask your husband," she wasn't exactly pleased with the treatment from Hiccup's mother.

They had a tense relationship, burgeoning respect with animosity on both ends. Valka knew that Astrid was one of the best riders, but she was also once one of the village's fiercest slayers when dragon killing was their stock and trade. But after Hiccup had left, she couldn't help but blame the blonde for leaving him alone to face the world and had even once tried to convince her to abandon Berk to remain by his side. But Astrid was too protective of the village and had more faith in Hiccup than his absentee mother and had outright accused her of disrespecting him and her husband by believing for a moment she'd leave her home for the sake of a young man that had no sense of place.

Astrid knew who she was from the moment she was handed her axe. She had only questioned this twice in her life, once when she had found Hiccup and Toothless and the other time when she was appointed a council member.

"He is not here," Valka explained, teeth barred, "Ye are."

"They were acting strange," Fishlegs spoke, his voice sure but quiet, "They were scoping the area. Taking in information to report to someone. I've never seen anything like it."

"Nor have I," Astrid added, her arms crossing.

"What do ye mean?" She wheeled on Fishlegs, who fiddled with a strap of his armor.

"They don't move," he murmured, "They don't eat. They barely blink. They only moved their heads, as if taking in everything around them, but not to escape. The chains are Gronckle iron, but they haven't chewed on it since last night. All they do is look…"

He shook his head, blond hair and helm askew.

"It's not right. It's not right…" he shrugged, "Someone is controlling them, but I don't know how."

"What other ways can a dragon be controlled?" Tuffnut asked, looking to his sister.

"An an Alpha or an Queen makes them submit, like a hive. It's a power structure, not unlike our own…" Valka rubbed her head, "But a dragon cannot _speak_. So, therefore, it cannot _spy._"

"Uh," Ruffnut looked back to her twin, "Are we sure about that?"

"What do ye mean, lass?" Valka gave her a critical, but not cruel, eye.

"Loki could transform into all sorts of creatures," Tuffnut supplied, with a shrug.

"Loki uses _seiðr _to do all sorts of things," Ruffnut added with a nod, "He's a god of tricks and transformation."

"Are you two seriously suggesting that a _god _did this?" Snotlout raged, his hands gesturing to the half-ruined village.

"Sure," the two shrugged simultaneously.

"Why not?" Ruffnut looked to the dragons, "If a human can't, who else do we blame?"

"It's not a god," Astrid spat with some annoyance, "If anything it's…another dragon. Maybe one that could hypnotize others?"

She looked hopefully at Valka, who was holding her chin in just the same manner as her son when he was thinking.

"I've not met one, not really," she hummed, "There is the Death Song ye all encountered, which would bring a dragon down to be devoured. But, ye are right, Astrid, that is the best solution.

"Fan out," she demanded, "We don't know how far its command can carry. Get in the air, anything suspicious, you return. It may inflict similar effects on yer dragons as well, so be careful. We will not stop until it is recovered, do ye understand? If ye are not sleeping, eating or bathing, ye are in the air!"

"Pft," Tuffnut scoffed, "As if we bathe."

Rolling her eyes, Astrid was on Stormfly.

"You heard the Chieftess," she put her massive axe across her shoulders, "We find it, report back, and don't let it see you. If your dragon is downed," she looked at the others, still and silent as if dead, "There may be no saving it. Understood?"

They shared nervous glances at the thought of having to sacrifice their beloved friends, but they nodded and mounted up anyway, soaring across the oceans to all the islands that could house a hostile dragon that could command others.

Astrid prayed they could find it. Not just so that the attacks would stop, that would always be the main goal, but because if the attacks continued, they would need _him._

_Hiccup._

She was over him, she assured himself, and in many ways, she was. When they had last crossed paths, they had crossed blades as well, as he continued to boss their group around as if he still was leader. She had thrown her axe without thinking, and he saved his head with Inferno. It had become a heated argument, where she had explained in no uncertain terms that he, now, held no place or say on Berk.

He had agreed and was gone with the next sunrise.

Her heart no longer fluttered at the thought of him, she no longer yearned for their midnight rides or intimate touches in the woods. She had no desire to sneak into his bed and would surely gut him if he tried anything with her, despite her fond memories.

She had been mad at him for a long time, it had eaten her up with loathing every time he dared step his single foot back in Berk. Everyone celebrated his return, but she avoided him as much as possible. She never understood why they cared that someone that abandoned them _(her) _and how he could warrant such praise. She had stayed, she had helped defend and grow the village that he forsook, but she never received such grand gestures or recognition.

But she didn't want them and neither did he. Hiccup had, for most of his life, wanted to be accepted and realized once he was that it was horrible for someone that had known mostly solitude. The expectations, the duties, the burdens of the village were heaped upon his reedy shoulders and he was never once prepared. She knew this and had tried to help him manage, she even took up the position as a council member with the intention of letting him settle into his new position with great strides.

But he didn't want power, or leadership. Hiccup wanted _freedom. _Astrid gave a sigh at that, relishing the moment among the clouds with her great Stormfly. He didn't want to be tied down by the village, but he would have if there was no one else to take up the role. He could lead when he was pressed, but he hated it and had expressed that to her many times. He had even told her once, long ago on a The Edge, that he believed her to be a much better Chieftess than he could ever be as Chief. She had laughed, because she thought they would be married within a few years and she would have the opportunity to show him just how right he was.

But he had left.

She hadn't bothered to think about Hiccup before he had Toothless, but he was right when he told her just how much he carried with him. The taunts and threats and various beatings, some of which she was involved with. It made sense at the time, surely—if he hurt the village, they would hurt him in return. But now it seems cruel and she ached for a child humiliated repeatedly for just trying to become one of them. She had apologized, for all of them, but he didn't know how to put down his resentment, his anger, his memories. They were too heavy so he had to have Toothless carry them both away from the island, the past, and her as well.

She had considered leaving with him for just a moment. But that wasn't who she was. She was from Berk, she was a soldier and warrior and guardian of her homeland and there would be no changing that in her mind. She had seen the amazing growth of Berk, how the trade had expanded, the children born without deformities, the babes that grew into adults, the adults that were growing old. This was something that would have never happened without Hiccup, and despite his hurting her, she would always be grateful to him for saving them all.

But now he was gone and she was left.

She would defend them, all of them.

They didn't need him.

She squeezed her eyes closed and sighed, deeply.

Berk had her and the riders and they didn't need anyone else.

* * *

**Unknown Ship**

His pale, luminous eyes frightened others, but never once his beloved family. He blinked, twice, tapping into his puppets that had been captured, his eyes always seeing what they saw and his commands leading their movements against the many villages they were attempting to consume.

He tilted his head in thought.

"What say you, brother?"

"They have blinded them, brother," he blinked, "But have not killed them. They are soft."

His eldest brother hummed, his voice a deep, unnerving grating that sounded like the many legs of a centipede as it scraped along the bark of a rotted tree.

He could feel their heartbeats, all six as they pounded slowly. One was about to die, he could feel the emptiness of his belly, the hollowness of his guts from starvation. The others were dehydrated and would most likely follow suit within a day or so.

But if they could not report to him, he saw no point in keeping them.

With a quick command, they dispatched themselves in a flurry of claws and teeth and fire, striking against each other's throats with precision and violence. When the only one that remained was a Monstrous Nightmare, he told it to bash its skull against a rock until it cracked open. He smiled, feeling them all die, like cutting off six pieces of himself.

It was his favorite part, their deaths. It felt like he himself was choking, suffocating, unable to breathe for just a barest moment before he was forced from their darkening consciousness.

Once gone, he gave a sigh.

"We'll need more spies, brother."

He heard another by him grunt in annoyance, "Ivar, must you slaughter to many? I'm getting tired of trapping. I want war!"

His second eldest brother interjected, "We cannot have war without planning. Remember what we want, brother, our _goal_."

"Ugh, but I want blood and death and raiding—!"

"All good," he smiled, calm, "But pointless without our plan. You can wait a bit longer, yes, brother?"

The threat was obvious. He could always _make _him wait.

Hvitserk, the eldest, gave a guttural laugh.

"No, no, brother, keep your magic to your little pets," he could smell the drink in his hand.

"Yes," he could hear Bjorn sit, "I don't want it."

His eyes could see nothing yet so much.

Blinking, he couldn't help his grin.

The world would be theirs.

They just had to wait a bit longer.

* * *

**DunBroch**

Merida awoke with a pounding headache. She groaned in annoyance, rolling over and pulling her pillow over her head to block out the sun streaming in from her window. Eventually, she sat up and tumbled out of bed, stepping in her spilled potion and groaning again, hopping around so as not to track it any further than it had already spread. Despite it's acidic appearance, it didn't burn but it still squelched between her toes like stepping barefoot on a fungus. She wiped it on her rug without much thought, the room basically forsaken in her mind, and went to her wardrobe.

She paused, seeing that the booklet her brother had found laying, innocent on the ground. She knelt, a corner bright green from landing in the goo. She thumbed it, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it. Even with the information it provided, she never stood a chance against the dragons that attacked the castle. On the ground, she stared at the bubbling ooze for a moment, her chest constricting. She ran her hand over her potion, the smell of pine filling the air—

"Show me the boys."

She was rewarded with an image of her three little brothers. They sat next to Maudie, if the image of her derriere was anything to go off. Merida had to squint, the image oddly curved—the spyglass must have been a goblet of some sort, the shiny surface allowing her to see her morose all had matching dark moons hanging under their eyes, poking listlessly at a plate of bannocks. They were in the MacKenzie hall, if she was correct, but she wasn't quite sure, there were several well-defended compounds near enough to reach by horseback in a night. However, she knew that Maudie had connections to the MacKenzie clan and they would shelter the princes with all the respect and kindness as if they were home at DunBroch. Her hand reached out, fingers in her potion, thinking she could reach them through it as her heart swelled and squeezed into her throat. She wanted to cry but she refused.

They were safe.

And that was enough.

She banished the image of her family and stood, going to her wardrobe to put on one of her many riding dresses, thinking they would have to be changed if she intended to keep them while on Saorsa, knowing now that dragon-back was in no way close to horseback. She wondered where the great reptile might have run off to while she ran her wide-toothed comb through her curls, the day having grown rather long while she slept and hoped that Hiccup hadn't wandered into too much trouble. Her aching stomach and head had her wander down to the kitchen, but he was already gone. The tub sat, innocent and empty, his spare clothing that she had worn having been washed and hung from hooks designated for pots.

She flushed bright red at the memory of her basically bathing in the same room as him. Her hands found her speckled cheeks and she forced the memory down with a few tugs on her bright hair. She was tired, she reasoned, she was exhausted emotionally and physically and it wasn't fair to push him out of the kitchen at this point. He had helped her undress before, she reminded herself, it didn't even really matter.

_'__A princess appears respectable in all manners! A princess is never caught unawares! Or underdressed!' _

Her mother's words rang in her ears and groaned again, hopping a little at the embarrassment of it all. A part of her reminded her _loudly _that she was a representative of her clan and kingdom, that she was to act like a princess should and never let herself lower her guard in front of a possible enemy. But another part reminded her that the castle had fallen and the entire compound was lost not even a week before and she was a princess in name only now.

That tiara was a symbol, one she was willing and happy to part with if it got them weapons or other supplies.

Shaking her head, curls spewing in every direction, she reminded herself why she was down here. She was looking for Hiccup, who was nowhere to be found.

She called his name in search for him. She walked around within the castle walls briefly before she wandered outside, smelling smoke and following it. He was in the smithy, pounding away at something. She was about to call again when she noticed he was stripped down to only his pants as he hammered a chunk of molten metal.

She had seen a man's torso before, seeing how she wasn't a child. Plus, in the highlands, they were pretty hard to avoid. The MacKenzie and MacIntosh clans were both particularly fond of wearing only the kilt, which would leave one shoulder and arm bare _(not to mention no underthings!)_. But she had always seen Hiccup clothed, so she was shocked to see his back facing her.

She hadn't seen him as a man throughout this entire nightmare. She had seen him as a boy, bumbling and fumbling, a coward running from whatever horrors of his past. She had seen him as warrior, as someone to respect and as an enemy she had to escape from, but never just a _man. _

He glimmered with sweat, the day had become just as hot as the one previous. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he worked, jumping in concordance with the sound of his hammer. He would lift his work up after some time, examining it, before going back to it again. He had a massive tattoo, what appeared to be his soaring dragon, etched across his back and extending to his shoulders, Toothless' wings seeming to move when he swung his hammer. His tapered waist lead to his low hanging linen pants that clung tightly to his legs and ass. His hair was pushed back by the mask he wore on top of his head, the sunlight picking up the red and bronze hues in the chestnut brown. She could imagine his sharp, green gaze as his brows furrowed in concentration as he worked.

Her mouth ran dry, her heart began to pound loudly in her ears. Her face flushed with heat that radiated all the way to her ears as she gasped, softly. She balked at her own sudden reaction, but couldn't bother to pull her eyes away from him.

He was gorgeous, far better looking than Lachlan MacIntosh and without all the swagger.

A part of her _(that sounded much like her mother) _screamed that a _'princess does not ogle!' _but it was scientific, truly, because she had never seen a blacksmith work up close. She bit her lip at the sudden desire to run his hands through his hair and place her mouth upon his—

She tugged on her hair again. That was not something she could dare think about, not_ now_. She had her time with a stable hand some moons ago, where she and him had spent time kissing behind the flanks of her Clydesdale, Angus. Brodie had been sweet and nervous, scared to be discovered and so she was able to command him and push him around rather easily. She hadn't ever gone too far, especially since he was called away by his family, but these feelings of want and desire were not strangers to her and she could not dare have them for someone that may or may not be worthy of her trust.

A needy part of her claimed that he was plenty trustworthy. He had never hurt her and had only sought her comfort and safety. It wasn't just the spell that combined their lives, a part of her truly believed this while another raged against the thought, but perhaps he truly respected and liked her company. But beyond her physical attraction, she was staggered to see him so _mundane. _He was the man that soared with wings of a dragon, a mind as sharp and quick as her arrows, and a soul so bright it nearly burned her. He stood toe to toe with her while she raged, managing to quell and stoke her blustering like the bellows he commanded so expertly. But he never looked down on her, he never commented on her sex or gender and she knew it made little difference to him whether she was female or male.

She felt her eyes fall to the ground, where so much blood had been spilt, where bodies had lain.

With shaking legs, she turned on her heel and began making her way outside the compound where she knew the best wildflowers grew. She picked a nose-gay of them, blushing at the silliness of it all and nearly throwing them all back in the dirt. But this was what her father did for her mother, whenever he had been snappish or rude because of all the burdens that lay in his lap and she didn't know what else would suit him. She could offer him a sword, or something more valuable, but they may need the weapons and she wasn't able to think of a blade he could wield easily or he could set aflame. She could give him her clan's colors, her kilt or banner, but he had no use of his own home or family name, why would he want to be a part of hers?

When a small pair of hands lay a collection of brightly colored flowers next to his anvil, Hiccup jumped a foot in the air, turning with the hammer still raised to a blushing Merida. She fiddled with a pale blue dress, another one finely made out of woven cotton and linen, one that made her eyes incredibly bright. She twiddled her fingers, intertwining them as she looked at anything save his own eyes. He put his hammer down, squawking and flailing when his borrowed welder's helmet fell across his face and he furiously raised it to look at her chucking face.

"Are these…?"

"For ye, aye," the blush made her freckles stand out against her skin.

"Um…thank you…but…"

"It's a-a, um," she bit her lip and finally managed to meet his eyes, "It's a peace offering. And an apology. And a gift of thanks."

A part of her hated him for his people while another part raged against his kindness and challenging what she thought she knew.

_'__But he's not his people,' _she reasoned, _'He's his own person.' _

A person that she was beginning to like, beyond simply respecting him. He was thoughtless with his words, but his actions were honest and full of good intentions. He had helped her with the bodies of her people, despite the horrors they faced that had both of them gagging into the bushes. He was smart in a way that she hadn't been exposed to, his clever inventions getting his Toothless off the ground instead of condemning him to death. The same dragon had bound himself eternally to his rider, shared his life with him, because he was worthy of it.

Perhaps, she thought, he was worthy of her friendship, too.

She gave a small smile at his gaping expression.

"I, uh…um," he flushed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I…I don't know what to say."

She shrugged, "Jus' know that I…I'm sorry."

"Hey," he removed his mask and placed it on the anvil, facing her fully and taking her hands, "Don't apologize. You've been through some of the hardest things in this world. The loss of a friend, a home, and you aren't sure what's going to happen and-and—wow, I'm going to stop talking," he chuckled, "But you've handled it like anyone could hope to."

He admired her bright hair and cheeks, smiling back at her, "You're brave, Merida of DunBroch. And we'll avenge your people."

She grinned then, happiness lighting her from within. It filled her ringlets and eyes, hope radiating from her frame.

"And look," he revealed his find, "I have our first clue."

She stared at the hilt and he told her its name.

"I've never heard of it," he admitted, "But I know who to ask."

"Yer riders?"

"Oh, no," he rolled his eyes, "They've traveled but not _really._ They always stick close to the Edge or Berk, so they'd be of little help. There's a traders city, not too far North of Scotland, on our way to Berk. That will have plenty of sailors that have picked up gossip all over the port cities and—"

"And someone may have heard of it! Hiccup," she breathed, "This is great! How many Storm-Bringers could there possibly be?"

He laughed nervously, "Please, don't jinx us."

She giggled and he grinned, despite being very serious.

When he then offered the apples, she gasped and took one in each palm. They must have been her favorites because she swallowed nearly four within thirty minutes while he worked away at a few nails and buckles. They traded ideas about how to keep her locked in the saddle, such as strapping her legs in with a multitude of belts.

"Risky," he sighed.

"Where is Saorsa by the way, did ye see her?"

He pointed to the pointed towers, "She's sleeping."

She shrugged with a sigh, "I will'nae bother her then. When do ye think ye can get all this done?"

He hummed, "Probably in a week or so."

"Then we need more food and wood," she nodded to herself, resolute, "I'll take a barrow into the forest, get us situated, then."

"That's dangerous, take one of the dragons," he commanded, but she was already walking back into the castle.

"I'm taking my bow, ye topsy, and that's all I need. I'll see ye tonight!"

He sighed and returned his work, complaints weak and worthless on his tongue. Pausing, however, he picked up the flowers and smelled them, smiling at the thought that she gave these to him. He didn't want them to die just yet, so he spirited them back into the castle were he found an old, chipped glass that he put them in with some water. His finger found a blue petal, a periwinkle color, and he found himself grinning despite the heat of the day and the amount of work he needed to get through.

* * *

**Chapter Six, complete!**


	8. Chapter Seven: Friends

**I do not own _Brave _or HTTYD.**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Friends

**Berk**

The children who saw would not stop crying, no matter the treats or promises of flights on Cloudjumper.

The dragons had committed some kind of suicide while she and the other riders were gone.

Her husband arrived, seeing the carnage with a keen eye and sighing, heavily. He lifted three little ones into his arms, as if they were nothing, rocking them in his grip.

"Fear not, wee ones," he spoke in a tone that she had not heard since she was heavy with Hiccup, like the brush of wings across the ground, heavy and full of promise, "They have gone to Valhalla."

"But Valhalla is for people," a little girl cried, "Will Odin truly welcome them?"

"Of course!" He cried, allowing her small hands to intertwine in his beard, "Why would Odin not make his hall big enough for everyone, dragons included?"

Valka smiled behind her hand.

"What if the gods do not like dragons, like we did not like them?" A young boy asked.

"I think the gods know them better than we did," he explained, "They made them. And there is a great golden dragon, who consumed Idunn's apples, and now he watches over all the dragons that die so that they will be ready for Ragnarok."

"So…" the boy continued, dark brows furrowed, "When I die, I will go and be with my Scarwing again?"

"Aye," he placed them all on the ground, untangling sticky fingers and cheeks from his beard and armor, "Ye and yer dragon will never be apart.

"Go now, away from this place," he commanded, "Go home and be with yer dragons."

They acknowledged his rank with little, awkward bows and ran off, save for a small girl who suckled on her thumb and looked at the bodies with dry, but upset, blue eyes.

"Brenna," Stoick sighed, "Go on, now."

She released her finger with a little _'pop', _"I see them die."

"I know," Valka stepped forward, "They were…very sick."

"Brenna," Stoick gave her a look as he picked her up, settling her into the crook of his arm, "Did ye see what happened? How they acted?"

She nodded, a plethora of half done braids bouncing along her shoulders.

"Yep," she looked at the remains, "Gro'ckle bite Thunder'um, then Naddy hit other Naddy and then-then…big red bite two-head one and then he hit hi'self," she tapped her head, "Right here."

Stoick looked to his wife, who's eyes were filled with unshed tears. She praised the young girl for being so brave and shuffled her along so that she could speak with him in relative privacy, the eyes of the village never straying too far from their leaders.

"What could have done this?"

"We still think it's a dragon," she whispered, "But I do not know if they have such cruelty within them…"

"If it is not a dragon," Stoick wondered aloud, "Then what is it?"

"Is this punishment, Stoick?" Her round eyes found his, her feverish whisper as sharp as a whet stone against an axe blade, "Is this the gods comin' to strike at us for all the misdeeds against—?"

"Now, woman," he never called her that unless he was truly angered, "Do not dare finish that sentence."

"How could I not?" Her red eyes spilled fat tears that left stains on her cheeks. Cloudjumper, sensing her distress, trundled over and sniffed the back of her head.

"I failed him, Stoick," she sniffled, not seeing how others were beginning to look at them, watching them with a wary attentiveness, "I failed ye both!"

"Valka, enough," he commanded, sharply.

"I cannot live like this, Stoick," she began to pace in circles, running her crooked staff in the dirt, "I cannot live while my boy is away from me!"

_"__Ye had no problem with it when he was a babe!" _He roared, his rage so potent and hot he swore he himself could spit dragon flame.

People stopped. They stared, agape and whispering.

"I should have taken him!" She screamed back, face reddening, "How could ye have left him to face Berk alone?!"

"Because he was _a ruinous creature_ worse than Loki himself!" He couldn't breathe, he couldn't catch his breath, "He _destroyed everything _in his Odin-forsaken path! He was _a living nightmare _until he tamed that dragon! _He couldn't be a Viking because he was yer boy!"_

"Ye abandoned _yer son!"_ She screeched, reaching a pitch he forgot she could.

"Only because _ye abanded me!_ _Ye abandoned us all!_ Ye left yer wee child in a crib while the _house was aflame, ignoring yer own babe for a dragon instead!"_

"And I should never have left my cove!" She cawed back, eyes bright green and furious, "I thought Hiccup had _changed ye all_, but yer still the same _stubborn ass_ that couldn't dare see his own mistakes, no matter the size! Ye _never_ listened to reason and ye _never _will!"

"Ye—!" He grabbed her by the arms and shook her hard, "_Ye loathsome bitch!" _

Her dragon cawed in rage, about to attack Stoick if his own dragon had not challenged it. The two beasts began lunging and spitting fire at each other, whipping wind around the two chieftains with the flapping of their powerful wings. Neither could spare a moment of attention to anything save their argument.

_"__Ye leave me_, pretending to _die!"_ He was crying now and the village stopped to stare at the horrid spectacle before them, "Ye leave me with _yer babe_ that _looks_ and _acts just like ye_, a walking, talking reminder of how _I was never strong enough to save ye!_ And then _ye dare_ to come back and_ insult me?!_ To _embarrass me_ in front of_ my village?!_"

He threw her and she landed heavily on her feet, grunting in rage.

"Ye brute! Ye are the reason he left! _Ye didn't protect him!"_

_"__I tried!"_ He bellowed, fists clenched and eyes streaming tears.

Gobber had made it through the crowd, blue eyes widening at the madness that was beginning to befall them.

_"__Ye failed! Ye failed us both! Twice!"_ She screeched, face twisted and contorted, "_I hate ye _for what ye did _to me! To us! To Hiccup!_"

She threw her staff at him and it hit his raised arms with a loud rattle, his face falling slack at her words.

"Valka…"

_"__I want a divorce! _I cannot take this_ forsaken island_ or _yer face_ a moment longer!"

She sobbed, sniveling, and covered her mouth with her hands. She took notice of his expression, strained and running tears. His eyes were wide and hurt and she huffed in air, trying to catch her breath but unable to regain her footing. She saw them then—the wide eyes of the villagers who all snarked and sneered behind her back. The women were shaking their heads, muttering about how poor a wife and a mother she became while the men gave her that condescending face that spoke of lunacy and madness.

"Valka…?"

She looked into her husband's _(ex-husband's?) _eyes, biting her lip as she stared at the ground. She ran to her StormCutter and leapt on his back, his wings kicking up massive clouds of dust as she yanked hard on him to get them up in the air as quickly as possible.

Stoick the Vast stood, watching her as everyone watched him.

* * *

**DunBroch**

Hiccup placed the saddle on Saorsa's back, despite her hesitance. She turned in tight circles, her golden eyes trying to catch a view of the sleek design he had conjured, the loose straps dragging and jingling against the ground. She had worn it twice now, but it was still somewhat foreign to her and he had taken off more and more weight to ease her into getting used to it. He turned to the red head who was still fiddling with her newly outfitted armor.

"Ready to give it another go?"

"Aye," Merida nodded, strapping her helmet across her face. She had worked with Hiccup to design it, knowing that her eyes had to be protected from the wind and bright sky but also with enough vision to shoot her arrows without missing. It was sleek like his own, but with sharp, cat-shaped lenses across the eyes that were made of a gold tinted glass that not only mimicked her dragon, but allowed her to see much better than the slit he used on his own. Melting and reshaping it had been a serious challenge for Hiccup, who had never once seen such a fine material, and had taken them multiple broken windows and bottles to figure out the trick.

"So you know where the targets are," Hiccup pointed to the crudely drawn map he had made, "I've added four more," he pointed to some 'Xs' he had sketched, "Hope you're ready for a challenge!"

She scoffed, flexing her muscles and wrinkling her nose at him, "Bring it on, _dragon-boy._"

He flashed her a sideways grin, "Done and done, _princess." _

He could _feel _her glare through his new helm, their matching black armor incredibly similar yet different to reflect their dragons. The dragon's wounds had gifted him with a plethora of damaged scales that were crushed with Nightfury saliva and blasted onto leather to give it a shiny, dark effect that would help them blend in on their backs. Her's was naturally rounder to accommodate her feminine shape, but also helped mimic the curvature of Saorsa, while his was sharper with additions like fins and points to give a more menacing appeal. The only thing that couldn't be concealed was her bright hair, which he had attempted to braid to avoid it knotting but quickly discovered there was no feasible way to do so. They had ended up sectioning it off with multiple strands of leather, making her hair look like a scarlet Gronckle tail.

She added a few more arrows to her newly outfitted quiver, which was a difficult trick to figure out in the short amount of time and materials they had. They had tried to stuff the bottom with thick tufts of wool so her arrows wouldn't fall out, but it only worked a part of the time and the shafts would often yank chunks of the filling out. It seemed that the arrows had to be held individually, so Hiccup designed a spinning barrel that would turn with a pedal attachment similar to his original fin design, which would spin individual gears and present her with arrows. He had taken the gears from the pulley system that helped open and close the massive doors to the compound, but since they were being unused it seemed fine. It only held about twenty at this point, but he believed he could upgrade once situated on Berk.

For now, they were focusing on target practice.

She swung her leg over the saddle, leaning over and strapping herself into the saddle with belts and straps that would keep her hands free. Although he had warned her against this design and the consequences it could hold should her dragon go down, it seemed like the only way to give her the ability to shoot even whilst upside down and sideways. Hiccup had set up a dozen or so targets in a flight path that she had been using everyday to get a better and more successful shot. He had accompanied her one afternoon to the woods to hunt and she showed him her various targets, half-gutted with holes, the only paint remaining was the a few stripes of white along the outermost edge. He immediately began to think up a course designated for flight in order to test both his saddle and her abilities.

They spent their days mainly apart. She would disappear into the forest with her bow around her shoulders, sometimes with Saorsa and other times alone, bringing back skinned and gutted rabbits or birds, and once a whole doe wheeling behind her. She admitted _(half embarrassed, half defensive) _she never learned how to cook from the kitchen staff, but she could still manage a few things. He traveled with her maybe twice before he realized what a nuisance he was, his lame leg far too loud in the underbrush to ever sneak up on something; however, he managed to make several traps that made her days significantly shorter. She would sometimes arrive with red-rimmed eyes, rubbing her nose against her sleeve, but Hiccup left any discussion of her sorrows up to her.

He kept to the forge and the compound, scavenging materials and making her equipment. If it got too hot he would cool down in her family's library, which was full to the brim of scrolls and books. They were written in Gaelic, but she made him some kind potion which she dripped into his eyes and allowed him to read the great tomes, after he finished hopping around and shouting about how badly it stung. He compared their maps to his and wondered if there were any islands or little niches that may hide an obscure and unknown dragon.

At night, they reconvened over food and stories or sometimes sat in comfortable silence as she stitched her riding dresses and he read something. They exchanged myths and legends and they began to see each other as equals more and more. Their similar struggles in their homelands were painfully exchanged, their mutual feelings of anxiety and failure were compared side by side next to their foreignness and oddities among their people. She raged against idealisms of propriety and the restrictions of her birthright, while he bemoaned his smaller stature and his mind better designed for academics than raiding. They would usually turn and compliment the other on the very things that ostracized them—he regaled her with stories of Valkyries and Shield Maidens who would envy her ability to shoot so well and she explained his brilliant mind would have bettered DunBroch in less than a year.

She raised her bow in her hands, it was an older one but it was just as good as her favorite lost in the woods. It creaked in a satisfying way as she nocked an arrow and she and her dragon leapt into the late afternoon sun and Hiccup followed close behind. She shot the first three with perfect precision, grinning into the helmet with each bullseye. The fourth one was new and she missed the mark by maybe three inches, but made the next two perfectly. Her foot twitched and the barrel spun, presenting her with three arrows, two that fired off in perfect succession, the third in her mouth for quick access. The newly added marks were less than perfect but still shockingly close, she was still not quite fast enough to keep up with the Nightfury and she struggled when she tucked her wings in tightly and did a complete spin. Saorsa was flying fairly quickly but it was nothing close to her maximum speed and she cursed under her breath as she spurred her on, missing the last target and landing on the outer white rim.

Hiccup whooped in triumph at her marksmanship, but she was scowling. She could do better. She had no choice but to improve—a few inches could make the difference between someone living and dying, either her mark or who she was protecting. And now her life meant two others and her failure could result in Hiccup and Toothless plummeting from the sky.

She was jerking on the belts as soon as they landed, "Oh, curse this thing!"

Hiccup leapt off and was rambling about her speed and accuracy. He was incredibly impressed that she had hit seven targets in direct center.

"I mean—!" He put his hands on his hips with a laugh, but stopped when she nearly fell from her saddle with a loud curse.

"Oh, damn it all," she hissed, getting her foot finally free with a sharp tug.

"What's wrong?"

She pushed her hair back, exasperated with both it and him, "Hiccup, I _missed."_

He rolled his eyes, "Yep, nearly a dozen arrows are stuck in random tree trunks and lost in the woods instead of sitting and waiting to be collected."

"I did'nae hit the—!"

He shook his head, smiling softly, "Give yourself some credit. You'll be perfect before you know it. But for now, let's…"

He drifted off, his eyes searching the horizon. She turned and saw nothing, save a small flock of birds. She turned to ask what he was looking at but he was already on the back of Toothless and in the air. She watched him soar forward with a shriek of dark wings cutting through the sky before stopping and circling back at a breakneck pace. She fiddled with the armor of her bow arm, thicker to protect her skin should the string snap against her, the wind buffeting her face as Toothless touched the earth.

He was reading a scroll before he even landed. There was another dragon, smaller and brighter, grabbing onto his neck and shoulder. His eyes scanned the pages that were before him before he was off the back of his beloved friend moving towards the castle, talking over his shoulder in nonsensical garbles as he went.

"I can'nae understand ye!" She caught up, finally, grabbing his arm and recoiling when the little green beast hissed at her.

He blinked, "Sorry, I-I, uh," he ran his hand through his dark hair, "We need to go. Dragons are attacking Berk again, they don't know why and they need me there."

"Alright," she replied immediately, despite the constriction in her chest. She had searched and searched and _searched _for any sign of her people and hoped maybe they would return, but there was no one save the two in the compound, "We need to pack."

"Yeah," he hesitated, looking as if he wanted to add something but stopped himself, "Meet back here as soon as the sun is below the horizon, okay?"

She nodded and they headed back into the castle, climbing the stairs to their respective rooms. She had shown him one after a night or so and he was unsure if it was someone else's before or just a guest room. His stuff was mainly packed already, but he wanted some of the books from the library. He rifled through and pulled out several on local kingdoms, wincing at the extra weight. Merida had some talent with a needle and thread, so she had made him several more shirts and a couple pairs of pants that she had taken in from her father's closet. He began to pack food and other stores once he was down back in the kitchens again, glad he had offered to dry some of the meat she had caught recently.

Merida packed her clothes and weapons and bottled some of her fallen potion, just in case, still warm to the touch and bubbling. She added some jars of herbs in a small pouch, like Hiccup's medical kit, and then dumped her jewelry box on top of it. She ventured out and down the hall and paused in front of her parents room, hand raised.

It was hard to go in. She had already seen the destruction, the tapestries cut down and the bed upturned. They had taken her mother's diadem and her father's crown. They had taken his ceremonial weapons from his father's father. She had found one of his kilts which bore their clan's tartan, which she had taken and shortened to fit around her better, which she would join with a pin made of roughly hewn iron that made up the four intertwined circles pierced with a sword. The invaders had destroyed nearly everything, turned the room upside down in search of more valuables, and it broke her heart to see her mother and father's things tossed so carelessly on the floor when she knew how immaculate her mother kept it.

She stepped around the sherds of a broken bowl, careful not to displace or disturb the area further. She felt her throat grow tight and her eyes hot, but she tamped it down and swallowed thickly. Now wasn't the time to get upset and mourn things—they were just objects, they could be replaced, fixed, moved and changed. As long as her family had even a chance of being alive somewhere out there, she would keep fighting.

She would find those that hurt her and her home and she would enact vengeance upon them.

She knelt to the ground where her ruined tapestries lie, the one that she had worked on with her mother, the one where she stood next to her as a bear and the one she had cut so carelessly in half. She was embarrassed, humiliated, furious with herself for her actions, for her cruelty and her selfishness. She had believed that nothing could be worse than losing her freedom and it had nearly cost her her mother's life and soul. Swallowing thickly, she raised her blade, poised above them—

She cut them out to keep her family close.

The door slamming echoed through the castle.

* * *

They strapped themselves and packs and supplies into their saddles. Hiccup was muttering under his breath and she watched as he twitched like a nervous mare. The Terrible Terror, the smaller green beast that was part of the Tracker Class of dragons, was already sent back with a reply to Berk. The sun had just fallen behind the trees and was about to dip beneath the earth's horizon and it seemed the night would be clear and cold. The night was quickly growing colder and she was glad for the warmth of her armor.

"How long will it take us, do ye think?"

"…Week. Maybe a bit longer."

"Do ye," she hesitated, seeing his agitation and not quite understanding it, "Are we still going to stop at the port town? The one where ye said someone might—?"

"Yeah, yeah," he waved her off and she stomped her foot in agitation, "We'll see what we can find."

"Hiccup," she demanded his attention, calling his name twice more before he finally turned and snapped at her.

"What?!"

She cocked her hip, "Ye're awfully twitchy to get back to the place ye claimed ye hated."

"I don't—! I mean, yeah, I hate being there but I don't hate the people there, I mean, they're…well, not my friends exactly but…"

She raised a crimson eyebrow.

"I…" His eyes were trained to his saddle, "I worry about the dragons more than I do my friends and family…"

It was shocking to hear it out loud. She assumed this to be at least partly true, it was so obvious in his personality how much he cared for the dragons and how little he cared for people. However, his admittance of it was unexpected and she couldn't help but feel it was more of an exaggeration than he was letting on.

"I-I mean," he paced, "My people have been fighting dragons for decades, they've only just started to ride and trust them! If-if this happens, if it all falls apart…"

She sighed, "War."

"Ye-yeah," he sputtered, "_More_ war!"

He put his hands in his hair, gripping it as he paced faster. Toothless warbled in concern and she placed her hand on his warm, flat head, rubbing him.

"So much death! So much loss and I mean—babies! Children! The elderly! Everyone will be lost and those that do make it will grow up hating dragons and killing more! And, with the Queen no longer there, summoning them…they'll leave Berk forever. And the village will be doomed!"

That was an odd conclusion to assume.

"Why?"

"Because we-we-we built our infrastructure around them! We always have! We made weapons for killing them and then we made saddles to ride them or fixed dragon teeth! We can't grow food to sell on the island so we had to have imports and we exported a ton of metal and ore that was mined from the mountains and now without the dragons in the Archipelago, we'll probably go completely—"

"Hiccup, Hiccup! Woah, laddie," she reached out when Toothless whined and pranced under her hand, worry in his movement.

"Breathe, lad, c'mon, now," she took him by the shoulders, green clashing with blue.

"Listen," she raised herself up, strength in her that she hadn't felt in days, "There is more to a city or village than imports and exports. One disastrous year can wreck the economy, yes, but ye have allies. DunBroch has empty fields and homes, but I know she'll regrow, the crops may be wasted but the soil is still good. Ye can solve the issues as long as there are those willing to do so and the people of Berk sound…"

She chuckled, "Well, they sound stubborn."

He released a shaky breath, "Yeah, yeah, you—well, you're right, you're so right. Berk will keep standing."

"And, ye know," she added, "It sounds like ye're more concerned about yer _people_ than the dragons."

He scowled, eyes low.

"Is it wrong for me to want to hate them?"

She shrugged, "I don'nae know them, ye do. But they are still deserving to live in peace if we can help them. If we let evil lie, we are no better than those performing the actions."

She felt like her mother—chin tall and lifted, voice lofty yet powerful. She had paid attention the last few years of schooling, determined to keep the crown for herself. She had no desire to marry one of the suitors, neither from the larger clans or smaller. She was willing to rule if it meant her freedom. But, sitting on that throne felt like sitting with a noose around her neck, growing tighter and tighter as the days passed on.

But she was a queen in her blood, pounded into her by her mother.

"Now," she patted him on the shoulder and shook him in camaraderie, "We have a village to save and questions to be asked. Are ye ready?"

He nodded, once, "Yes. Let's go."

And they were off, two matching black crescents soaring across the sky.

* * *

**Forrests outside of DunBroch**

Ian felt his patience thinning, but he kept it to himself. The trip on horseback was tedious enough, but with Sean's wounds and Lachlan's constant stopping to bathe or rest had tripled the trail in front of them. They were nearing the castle but the sun had already set and he refused to stop even if he had to leave them both in the middle of the wood alone. He could deal with a bit of time away from them, if he was honest.

Sean paused, mouth agape and pointed towards the heaven like a wild turkey, "Hey…do ye hear that?"

"Hear what?" Lachlan muttered, whipping his hair from his eyes.

"That."

"That, _what?" _

"Hush," Ian put his hand out to stop them.

There was a siren call, high pitched and whining.

"DunBroch?"

"Hurry!" Ian cried as he kicked his horse and began to careen through the woods.

There were some calls of warning from the other two but the wind was already whistling through his ears. The siren was growing louder and louder in the dark, advancing far too quickly. He pulled his mare in circles, looking to the woods to provide the noise, shouting in surprise as it filled his ears with a deafening screech. It seemed to shake the earth below his feet and rattle his teeth inside his head as his horse whinnied in panic and bucked, shaking him from the saddle and throwing him heavily into the dirt. His eyes searched the heavens, the shadows of the forest contracting and moving around him and he couldn't help but close his eyes and whimper in expectation of horrors unknown.

But the noise passed and began to retreat, soaring right over head.

Standing on shaking legs, he wandered in the dark for his horse. He jumped again when he stumbled into Sean and Lachlan, holding on to the reigns of his lost mare.

"Thought ye were killed, we did," Lachlan sighed, relieved.

"Nay," he sputtered, still nervous.

"What in the devil's name was that?"

"Dragon," Sean nodded, agreeing with himself.

"What?" Lachlan immediately spun as if to catch it, sword drawn in preparation.

"Aye," Sean nodded again, eyes glazed, "Nightfury, I'd reckon."

"The one that—?"

"Aye."

He noticed his wide eyes, wider than normal. His tight knuckles, his stiff neck and jaw.

"Let's away from this place…" Lachlan murmured, hearing of the damage the massive beast had caused along the coastline of the Dingwall castle.

Sean was already moving, wanting to put distance between himself and the dragon that nearly killed him.

"Lachlan," Ian muttered, a hand reaching for the other youth, "DunBroch…do ye think—?"

"No point in speculatin'," he took his hand in his and gripped it, "We go and we see. She may still yet live, she bested us all and Mor'du, to boot."

"Aye," he licked his lips, "Aye."

* * *

**Blackcap Island**

Time passed slowly on the backs of dragons. They flew most of the night, using the oceans to keep their dragons from tiring, and would find an island to rest on. Merida had expressed concern about finding a place to recuperate before the dragons faltered, but Hiccup assured her he wasn't flying them in a random direction and, after nearly a week he had yet to fail them. They had visited a few places where she came face to face with some of the dragons he showed her in his beloved journal, such as a herd of Gronckles and other Boulder class dragons that matched the description of the book her little brother had found before. They were headed for the port town by the name of Blackcap now and she was gritting her teeth not to strangle his skinny neck.

He had warned her against her appearance, particularly her hair, when they neared the glowing village in the dark—a red haired princess sporting a bow would surely stand out amongst the crowds and she was ready to agree with him but not the idea of hiding from those that might be looking for her. After some rather heated arguing, she now followed him closely to a bar with her hood pulled over her head and eyes.

"Stick close, but also distance yourself from others," he spoke as they walked, "I'd prefer if you had stuck with the dragons, but we'll make use of two pairs of ears. They know me here and after a few hours I'll motion and you will leave first and then I'll follow after awhile or so, okay? And go back to the dragons, they'll get into mischief if we don't keep watch of them."

She clucked her tongue, "Aye…"

"Hey," he wheeled around, "I know you're angry, alright? But we _have _to play our cards right. We can't burst in there, demanding answers or we'll be run off the island before you can say Zippleback."

She glared at him dourly.

"You can go back to the dragons…"

"Ugh!" She stomped her foot, pointing a finger in his face, still mad from their arguing earlier, "I am not _yers, _boy-o! Ye cannot—! Ugh! Ye go around telling me what to say, what to do, but—!"

"That's because," he took her hand in his own, breathing warmth into her freezing her fingers, "I know what I'm doing and where I am. Where would you be without me?"

_Lost._

"Shut up!"

_Terrified. _

"Admit it," he smirked with a shrug, "You need me. So, play nice and quiet and we'll see what we can find."

_Earthbound. _

She seethed, "Fine!"

His satisfied grin made her want to ring his neck even more, but she followed, fiddling with the little, dented blade she had hidden in her sleeve. There was a moments doubt about carrying it inside, but she stamped it down and followed Hiccup to a raucous wooden building, light and noise spilling from the windows. She gave a shuddering breath as Hiccup advised she wait for about fifteen minutes before she followed him in.

"Just…" there was that expression again, hesitant and concerned and full of things unsaid, "Just be safe, alright?"

She glared at him and he huffed a frustrated laugh before he went inside, whipping his cloak off. She heard a great cheer of recognition and she settled against the wall beside her to wait, but she was quickly overcome with a combination of boredom and anxiety and she followed him and skulked to the bar. She ordered in Gaelic and the man blinked in confusion, having to get a serving girl that was likely a few years older than herself.

She looked like a MacIntosh, if her coloring was anything to go off.

"What are ye doin' so far out here?" Her voice was panicked, quiet, "Ye need to leave, girl, quick!"

"And why is that?"

"Northmen," she scrabbled for her hand, "Danes, my girl, ye must flee this place. Ye are in Viking territory now and there is nothin' they love more than to…" her eyes flickered behind her, "Take captives."

"Ye mean_ slaves_."

Her eyes filled with tears, "Call it what ye will, but please…Save yerself, leave this place and go back however ye can."

Merida's bright eyes found hers, a pale green like she first shoots of spring life. She rearranged their hands, clasping back, fingers interlacing.

"I am Merida of clan DunBroch."

Her mouth gaped, gasping and she yanked her closer, "_Princess_…!"

"Aye," she flashed her a sardonic smile.

"Ye cannot be here," she hissed, baring teeth, "Ye'll be _slaughtered!"_

"Why?" Merida and she were just about touching noses and the serving lass pulled back with a jerk when the Northman bartender snapped at her and she responded in his same, guttural speech.

She swallowed and eyed her fearfully before retreating and bringing her a mug of something warm and roughly fermented. She coughed into the brew but drank deeply anyway as she turned and found Hiccup surrounded by other men, all dressed in skins and furs and speaking to him animatedly, shooting her glances every once an awhile.

She tipped her mug at him and his nostrils flared in obvious fury.

She took several swallows and looked for the other girl, but she had been whisked away. The bartender kept eyeing her oddly and she decided to speak at him unintelligibly until he brought the serving wench to her again, exasperation on his face.

"Leave, now," the girl was smiling, keeping up a rather believable facade.

"I cannot," Merida leaned her cheek on her hand, laughing to make them think that they were just two lassies gabbing about nothing, "DunBroch was attacked."

"I know."

Merida missed her mouth, the horrid ale spilled down her dress, making her curse at herself under her breath.

Her teeth were grinding as she smiled, "How do ye know, lass?"

The serving girl's smile faltered, but she regained it.

"They came here. The brothers and their army."

Merida laughed again but it was an angry, barking sound that drew more than a few eyes her way. She reached her hand out as if she and this girl were just fast friends and the lass nervously took it, yelping when Merida forcefully pulled her close.

"Open yer fucking mouth and tell me what ye know or I swear to ye, lassie," she wrinkled her nose in false gaiety, and pressed down hard on the girls wrist, "I'll cut yer eyes from their sockets and yer tongue from between yer teeth."

"Aye! Fine!" she huffed, all illusion slipping from her expression, "They stopped here, most Dane ships have to, ye ken? But this was a massive amount of people and they had…they had…"

"Dragons," Merida supplied, "How many?"

"I do'nae know," she admitted, "But the beasts made terrible noises all night, cawin' and screechin'…It was horrible. They must have come from very far North…"

"Why is that?"

Her eyes never stopped moving, "They-uh-they, well, most Vikings don't work with dragons, they fight them or trap them, ye ken it. But the Hooligans up near Helheim's Gate, they've…trained them, I've heard. They must be Hooligans because these dragons could do anything the one boy told them to…he was young and wiry but-but, most of all…he was blind."

"Blind?"

"Aye," she brought her more ale, "Eyes as pale as pearls. But he could command the dragons easily…I don't know how. He would tell them to kill themselves or each other. He would make them fly into the ocean. It was…cruel even to cruel creatures."

Merida drank heavily.

"I think," the serving wench murmured, conspiratorially, "It's the Hooligan heir. They say he left his homeland, banished after he killed the heir to the Berserker clan, Dagur the Deranged. He was so furious he began collecting dragons and using them to slaughter and raid. He's a monster."

She whimpered and whipped pale yellow hair from her eyes.

"Did they say their names? Did ye hear it?"

"They called themselves 'brothers' but I do'nae think they're related or, at least, they do'nae look it…" She licked her lips, "The one was big and blond with tons of heavy braids down his beard. I think they heard his name was Bjorn…There was another, he was darker in coloring, his name was something with an 'H' but I did not hear it. He was violent and dangerous. The last was the child, the boy, the heir—his name was Ivar."

"Ivar…"

"Aye, ye ken all I ken, now go, quick, lass!"

Merida drank her ale, throwing her head back to down it, not feeling the hood slide from her head. She offered the girl a couple of coins, which she took and then shooed her out the door. Merida turned and saw Hiccup, along with all the others at his table, staring at her as she left the bar and headed back towards where Toothless and Saorsa were waiting for them. Although she yearned for a clean, warm bed, the moss would do fine on the far side of the village and from searching eyes.

When she heard footsteps behind her, she almost laughed. They were loud, as loud as Hiccup, and they intended an ambush. She fingered her knife under her cloak, gripping it tightly.

When he lunged, grabbing her, she whipped him over her shoulder and threw him to the ground with a heavy gasp as the wind was knocked from his chest. She slammed her knee into him and grabbed his hair as she held the knife to his throat and growled.

"Why are ye followin' me?!"

He sputtered in that guttural language, spitting at her and hitting her above the brow. She gasped and reared back in shock and disgust, which he took advantage of and tossed her off, mounting on top of her. His fetid breath fanned across her face and she shrieked in rage, punching him hard across the jaw and kicking him once in the leg. He buckled, but only ended up crushing her more and she used her knees to try to get out of from underneath him.

He was lifted, suddenly, yelling in shock as he was thrown away from her. She scrambled to her feet to see another man leering at her lasciviously. She usually wouldn't balk at a two to one fight, but seeing his sharp sword pointed in her direction and his hand on the bulge of his manhood, she turned and bolted. When she hit the tree-line, she whistled for Saorsa in panic, the sound of more footsteps thudding loudly behind her and gaining distance faster than she liked. She used her light footing and lifetime of running through difficult terrain to keep them at bay as she hopped up a steep incline, a shuddering breath falling from her when she heart a terrifying screech of rage from above.

Two thuds hit the ground and she wheeled, seeing six figures skidding backwards down the hill as both Toothless and Saorsa advanced, mouths aglow with violet plasma that illuminated the dark area with a frightful glow. A man came screaming forward, axe raised, and she watched in horrified fascination as her dragon ripped his head clean from his shoulders and spat his still blinking skull on the ground. From above, she saw Toothless shoot a man nearly point blank with his powerful blasts, ripping a hole through his sternum and spewing his guts across the dirt as he was thrown backwards. They attempted to tie her dragon down with a bola, Toothless jumping forward to tear limbs and bone from them with a caw of rage as she skidded down the embankment, her knife cutting through the ropes to free her friend.

A man approached without her seeing and she couldn't help her scream of shock when he grabbed her by the curls and pulled her head back before slamming her cheek into the dirt. When he let up she turned over and went kicking backwards as he laughed at her, untying his pants with a feral grin. A pale hand reached up above his neck, the glint of a blade bright in the darkness as it flashed against his bearded throat.

She was hit with a warm spray of blood that had her reeling and she gagged, scrambling to get Saorsa out from under the weighted ropes that kept her on the ground. The body hit the ground with a deafening, wet thud behind her and she sobbed, hands shaking. Once loose, Saorsa let out a roar that made her head ring and magic surged to her fingertips in anticipation of a fight to the death.

She turned, breath shallow and eyes glazed, seeing Hiccup now that the body of her would-be rapist was down and he had saved her _(once again)_, his Inferno aflame with the help of Monstrous Nightmare gel. His green eyes were hard in the dark, like emeralds, and she followed his sharp gaze to one man who was trying to crawl away, blubbering incoherently in his heathen tongue. He had lost a leg somewhere in the brief battle, the jagged bone and torn flesh most likely a fierce bite that severed the limb roughly and cruelly. Whether he prayed to his gods or to them, she didn't know, but she recognized his beard from the man that had saved her only intending to take her for himself. Hiccup watched her as she stared at the man that would have taken her maidenhood and then, most likely, her life without a moments hesitation. She took a sword from the dirt—his or maybe one of the other's, who knows—and raised it above her head, grunting as she slammed it down and cut through two thirds of his neck. She hacked at him again, twice more, before he was fully decapitated and the hem of her skirt was soaked in blood, his head rolling back to lie face down in the dirt.

Merida huffed, gasping. She eyed the corpses, all faces from the bar that had surrounded Hiccup, had praised and spoken to him, bought him drinks and treated him well. Her fingers went slack the sword dropped as she wavered on her feet, magic still turning her form a hazy turquoise.

"They were yer friends…"

His eyes were dark like the woods, "My friends don't rape girls. More are coming. Let's go."

Saorsa hit the severed head with a blast of her plasma, making it explode and sending a fine mist of gore across their faces, Merida gagging as a hunk of brain hit her lips. Hiccup muttered something about them at least not being in their armor as he mounted Toothless and commanded she meet him to the North East of here on an island with a rock shaped like a dragon's tooth, while he quickly gathered their packs and supplies. She tried to argue it was too heavy for Toothless alone, but he was already up in the air and she had no choice but to follow his directions.

* * *

**Island off Blackcap**

She had managed to find it with some good luck and his landmark. The rock rose like a great tusk, cutting open the sky like a tooth, more mountain than stone, as if it had carved away at the crescent moon hanging in the sky. He had found it before her, knowing where he was, and his fire in the middle of the wood illuminated the way to a small clearing. He had changed out of his blood-soaked clothes and was trying, unsuccessfully, to salvage them in a tub of saltwater. He threw her pack into her weak arms and she stomped right behind the trees to change into one of her old riding dresses which she had shortened and added pair of dark tights that she plunged into her bloody boots once over her feet. She wrapped herself in her Da' massive tartan, still big despite her taking off some of its length, trying to stop her shaking with little success.

Hiccup offered her food in silence and she took it but ended up giving it to Saorsa, dropping her bloody clothes in the tub along with his. She hoped that she could salvage the fabric, last time Hiccup had asked her to try to spell away the stains but she ended up turning everything a dark teal _(not that he looked poor in the color)_.

It was strange to see Saorsa and Toothless with them, if the dragons had any energy left they spent time together, flying and playing and teaching each other tricks that they had learned through difficult and violent lives. They would chase rabbits through the underbrush and dance through lightning soaked clouds, their echoing siren call the only indication to their riders that they were nearby. But, knowing her distress or perhaps just seeing her shiver, Saorsa wrapped her in her arms and wings, nuzzling the top of her curls with her flat head. She reached back and held onto her as the dragon cooed and clicked against her in concern and comfort.

Hiccup stood with a start and stalked off into the wood. Ignoring him, Merida wrapped her arms around her dragon, basking in her strength. She whispered praises, soft and earnest, tipping her head back to stare into her eyes in hopes they could express her thanks. Saorsa was attentive and funny and becoming as precious to her as Angus, but had even more personality and thoughts than her horse. Although Hiccup and Toothless often slept together during the days, wrapped around each other in a knot of limbs, Saorsa would remain in the treetops high above wherever Merida camped, ready to jump in if needed but not as close. They couldn't communicate as well just yet, but as they spent days together, she was growing more and more a companion, a friend.

Hiccup had left the two girls to pace in the dark woods. Toothless had followed and watched as his rider had groaned into the darkness, unsheathing his sword and hitting the nearest tree repeatedly, taking chunks from the bark. He threw the blade and it imbedded into the dirt, Toothless' green eyes following Hiccup as he flailed wildly in the darkness, throwing rocks and sticks and kicking everything around him for at least twenty minutes. He seethed in the blackness, trying not to scream and alert Merida to his meltdown.

"She is so—!" He threw another rock in a random direction, Toothless leaning to dodge expertly.

"Why?!" He looked to Toothless, "Why must she attract danger?! Everywhere she goes, _disaster follows!" _

Picking up a bigger rock, nearly stumbling, he hurled it past a few trees.

"Why can't she follow the simplest orders?!"

Another stick, Toothless ducking.

"Can she not see that we have bigger problems on _our_ hands?"

He stood, now, one hand pinching his brow while the other rested on his hip, inhaling deeply.

"She's going to get herself killed…"

That used to be immediately followed by _'with me and Toothless.' _But it seemed to be its own statement now, a full sentence all alone.

Seeing her with Saorsa, her dragon nervously trying to assure herself of Merida's safety and health, making sure to mark her skin to scare off other dragons, made him twice as furious. He had wanted her to stay put, tried to explain that the men at the bar would most likely recognize him and would trust his questions as another traveler that had happened to stumble across a collection of ships and dragons and wonder where they might be headed. They had watched her when she entered, wondered what she could be doing so far from home and who had brought her—she couldn't be alone, right? And when her hood fell, revealing her bright hair, every man wanted a piece of her and Hiccup had to hide his disgust in his ale.

He suggested they go to the brothel, it was just down the road and full of willing women. They had agreed and few men wandered out and Hiccup thought her safe, the men going to bother loose women who were more besotted with the plundered gold than anything between their legs. When Hiccup heard how the men were laughing, however, he was up and wandering out with the excuse that he himself wanted a piece of the action, bile in his mouth as he raced towards the dragons, knowing that Merida could hold her own until Toothless and Saorsa got ahold of them.

When he saw that disgusting asshole, Rollo, poised above her writhing body, hearing her whimper as Saorsa screamed and cawed in fury to get loose and defend her rider, someone or something took over his body. Perhaps it was a god, Thor's fury in his veins, or Loki's chaos strong enough to end the world. Or maybe it was his dragon's blood, white hot and deadly, that made it so easy to reach out with his blade and slit his throat. Hiccup used to hate killing, he was really unable to even manage it—he didn't hunt rabbits or dragons, he didn't raid or rape, and he didn't murder. But after years alone, sometimes the end had to come, it was an aspect of a rough life, a violent life, a lonely life filled with claws and teeth and dragon fire. And, beyond that, he wanted him dead just for daring to touch her.

And a part of him raged against himself, _because she was still here. _She was fine, really, just shook up, no worse than when they first met. He should be mad that she put him and his dragon in a situation that may end their lives. He should be mad that she forced his hand and made him kill someone that he knew by name. He should be mad that she's the reason that he can no longer return to that port city without risking being known or recognized. He should be furious with her for more than a dozen reasons, but really he was more upset about the fact that she endangered herself recklessly.

She didn't think about what it would do to them if she was gone. She didn't understand how Saorsa would mourn, how the dragon may never trust another person in the same way. She didn't understand how attached Toothless had become and how Saorsa's pain would augment his own. She didn't understand how attached he'd become, how much he enjoyed her company.

He loved her recklessness, her madness, her violent adoration for life. But he loved it more when he was close enough to save her. He loved it when his heart raced and adrenaline shot through his veins, making everything seem to slow, nearly to a stop, including his always churning mind. But he hated how, when she was involved, everything sped up—got faster and faster and just kept running circles around him and he was always trying to keep up, keep pace with her. He couldn't stand how she was somehow taking what he loved and making it _wrong. _He loved to race and fly and endanger himself because he didn't worry about being killed or maimed, he had Toothless—but now every time she was out of his sight he wondered if the massive, man-eating, lightning spitting dragon and her own magic wasn't enough to protect her. He didn't like that she was slowly grounding him.

He should have gone back to camp calmer, more relaxed, but he was too wound up and he could feel the _concern _and _anxiety _pouring from Toothless. She had built up the fire more, feeling safe in the density of the woods that no ship could see them from the ocean. Her wide toothed comb, made of some kind of bone, was floating in the air and gently detangling her red curls with unseen hands as her own worked on the laundry, Saorsa curled up close to the flames. She was plunged elbow deep into the tub of water, muttering curses under her breath as she scrubbed at the bloodstains. He estimated another five minutes of hassle before she tried to use magic again, ultimately making their clothes match in color and shade.

Something about that comb, the way it was full of magic, the way it moved without her touching it that just suddenly _enraged him. _

"Why didn't you use that earlier?" He snapped, feeling his temper rise.

"Eh…" she shot him a confused glare, "…My comb?"

"You're _seiðr."_

She was ready for a fight too, because she was quick to snap back, throwing her wet dress into the tub with a loud _slap!_

"Ye think I didn't _want to_, Hiccup?"

She was already on her feet, advancing toward him, realization hot and furious in her eyes.

"I'd like to see ye try to use some magic," she shoved him and he stumbled back, nearly falling, "Go on, then! Put up a shield! Or hit me! Make the fire bend, throw a rock!"

He grabbed her by the arms and they wrestled, briefly before throwing each other away.

"Ye're _so smart_ and _so talented_, ye do it then! Let's see ye do it!"

He hissed, "Why do you insist in getting us into these situations?!"

"Oh, so it's my fault _yer people_ are gutless, rapist _monsters?!_"

"I told you to stay with the dragons, but no! No, you had to come along to a bar where you had no right to be in!"

"And ye have the right? Do ye? Why should I trust ye to put my people's needs above the needs of yer dragons?!"

She threw a rock at him _(with her hands)_ and it pinged off his shoulder, making him wince.

The dragons had grown tired of the two hatchlings, settling into the dirt, eyes dancing between the two humans.

"How would a Scott be in Northern territory all alone? How did she get there?! You don't think about these things!" He gestured wildly, "But I do! That's why I told you to stay!"

"Oh, ye are so-so-argh! Ye are a gutless worm, Hiccup! Why don't ye slither away like the wee snake ye are?!"

"I would happily leave you on this _fucking island_ if your witch didn't tie our lives together! I don't want to be flying around without a worry in the world and just drop from the damn sky!"

"Then leave!" She screamed, face baring two bright slashes across her cheeks as if she'd been slapped, "Just because ye think I can'nae take care of myself does'nae mean that it's true!"

"Oh, oh really?" He advanced, quieter now, "Because that's not how I remember things. I remember you on the ground, with a man between your thighs—"

She punched him across the face _hard_ and he staggered, falling backwards into a tree. His jaw pulsed in beat with his heart and blood slipped between his teeth as he hissed.

A part of his mind that was mostly Toothless seemed to sigh, _exasperation _rushing through him, followed by his own immediate rush of guilt and horror.

"How dare ye…? How dare ye?!"

"I'm sorry," regret immediately began to pour from him and he squeezed his eyes shut, knees shaking, "That was so uncalled for, Merida, I—!"

"I've had enough," she fumed, "Ye can stay or go, but I'm leavin' ye to rot!"

"Merida, wait, please!"

He reached out and grabbed her arm, not thinking about what had happened, where she had been, what he had just brought up. She shrieked in rage and horror and yanked away from him, nearly falling in her need to get away from him. Hiccup felt the urge to hit himself and began to apologize again more profusely, reaching again and hating how she recoiled away so quickly.

_'__Damn it, damn it, damn it!' _

She pulled away, falling to her knees and retching in the dirt. Her dragon came then, curling around her protectively, only her bright hair visible above the smooth wing. She dry heaved for a few moments before she stood and shaking legs, using Saorsa, their cheeks pressed together.

"I will_ not,"_ she spat at his feet, wiping her mouth, "Stay with ye a moment more."

"Merida," he reached and she recoiled again, his hands suddenly in the air, "I'm sorry, I'm _sorry! _I wasn't thinking," he shook his head, "I didn't mean—I would _never!_ You know I would never hurt you!"

"Do I know that? Do I?! Ye're one of _them!_ Ye're the same as _them!"_

"No," he murmured, "I swear, I'm sorry, I just…" He shook his head, "You scared me, okay?!"

"_I_ scared _ye?!_"

"Yes!" He stood, hands outstretched, "I was terrified!"

She gaped, affronted, "Are ye _serious, _Hiccup?"

"Yes!" He yelped, "I mean, c'mon…He was—you were—and Saorsa was down and I thought, by Thor, if he hurts her—uh, you!…I'll bring him back to life myself and rip him apart limb from limb."

He paced, his hands pulling his hair back in and yanking on it in agitation.

"I know you're not helpless, okay? Hel, you're a better shot than anyone I've ever met and as tough as any Shield Maiden, but, by Odin's missing eye—!"

He rounded on her and she jumped, backing away a bit and he softened.

"You jump headfirst into things. You don't plan ahead. You don't listen to directions or suggestions or orders. You think you can take on ten men and, Hel, maybe you can but it scares the absolute shit out me. You scare me. In every way.

"You keep—ugh, man, this is—look, you just keep running off and I know you're mad and insulted and-and pissed off but you have to understand that _I know _these people. I know them because I lived among them. I know they're barbarous and awful and disgusting. Why do you think I _left?_ Why do you think I-I wanted to spend the rest of my days with dragons? Because they're just better! They're kinder to each other and cleaner and, I mean, honestly smarter than most people.

"And, you know…I was happy with them, with Toothless, I was and-and-and I _am!_ And I never thought about finding someone else to ride with, to be with and I keep coming back to that thought with you. We're stuck together and-and-and, well, I don't want you to die on this revenge trip you've got. I want you to live so that you can see these places I tell you about. This island is full of dragons and there's a million other islands like it that I want you to see them!

"I care about your cause," he came and took her hands in his, "I do. I care because, whether you believe me or not, I don't like the fact that they're abusing dragons anymore than I like the thought of them raiding people like yours. I want to help you but I need you to let me. You're not in this alone and I can get you further than you think, I mean, I've got connections and resources that I've built over the last few years I've spent riding around with Toothless.

"What I mean is, what I'm trying to say is…well, Thor's beard…"

He looked down at her round face, pale and freckled, the fire dancing across her skin.

"As much as we fight," he shrugged, "You're a great travel companion and I want you to stay around for awhile. You've been through enough, we both have and I don't want you to get hurt anymore."

Her eyes glistened, wide and wavering. The blue looked darker, more teal than turquoise.

"Stay? With ye?"

He shrugged on shoulder, "As long as the ride takes. And longer, if you want."

She looked at her dragon, cleaning her face with her front paw. Feeling her eyes, Saorsa blinked molten gold irises at her.

"I…I want to say yes," she looked back to him, "But, my kingdom, my people, _my parents_…"

He shrugged again, "I understand, even if you don't believe it, I do. And I respect it. But, maybe…I could…"

"Be around," she nodded, "Ye could—ye could see DunBroch in her full glory and visit, perhaps often. You could see what Christmas is like."

He gave a lopsided grin, "You can visit Berk for Snoggletog. Though, I'd say the Hooligans would probably love you and wouldn't let you go back."

"I bet ye—wait," she grasped his fingers harder, shaking his arms, "Berk is the home of the Hooligans? Yer tribe?"

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes, "That's us."

"Oh, no, Hiccup," her hands reached to cover her mouth, "Do ye ken the heir? The boy?"

"Uh…yeah, heh, sort of," he blinked, "Why?"

"He's the one," she breezed past him, hands fluttering in exaggeration, "He's the one doing _all of this!_"

He sputtered and she continued,

"The barmaid…oh, God," she shook her head and groaned, "I did'nae even get her name! I should'nae have left her back there! Ugh!"

"What did she tell you, exactly?"

"She saw them, they stopped there, in the port. They had dragons but they had boats as well and there was one, a boy, who could command the dragons the way ye do but _better. _She said that he could tell them to rip themselves apart or-or-or drown themselves in the ocean and the dragons just _did it!"_

His teeth were grinding loudly in his ears, the sound like oars slapping against the ocean.

"She told me that there were two others and they called each other brothers but they must have looked different? I'm not sure," she shook her head, "But the boy was the one with the power. She said the Hooligan heir murdered another, a-a-a deranged something? Ugh, I can'nae remember…!"

"Just…just, what…?" he felt the sky bend, arching above him, and he could see the distinct cracks along Ymir's cranium, the gray matter of his brains floating to make the clouds.

"She said he had some kind of-of problem? A handicap, a deformity. The boy was blind and the Hooligan heir has something similar and she believed it to be him."

She wheeled to face him, "Is this true? Do ye ken anything about it?"

He needed to sit down.

"No, that's not…that's not right."

"It's not? Well, it could just be a rumor, but…Hiccup? Ye alright? Ye're lookin' sort'a…"

He bent and vomit filled his mouth and nose as he retched, loudly and violently into the dirt, the acid stinging the imprint of his teeth on the inside of his cheek. She gasped and felt her cool fingers find his neck while he emptied his stomach painfully. She handed him his water skein and he drank deeply and tiredly, gasping.

"Alright, laddie?"

"Merida," he sighed as he righted himself, the smell of vomit still in his nostrils, "I think I have a story to tell you."

And he did. He explained his heritage, filled in some of the pieces he left out from when he talked to her the first time. He told her about Stoick the Vast, one of the most fearsome Viking warriors ever to come from the Archipelago and his pathetic, puny son that no one ever saw as worthy. He told her of the many abuses that came with his stature and size and about Gobber, who raised him as best he could as his father did his best to ignore his troublesome son. He regaled her with tales of his massive disasters, the buildings and edifices he destroyed, his oddities, how he was loathed and ostracized. He told her about how it all changed when Toothless came into the picture, how everyone seemed to pretend that all their cruelties never existed. He told her that he carried this with him still and didn't know how or where to drop it all off. He had told her many of these things before, but now his position was in the forefront; he wasn't just the village joke, he was the Chief's joke.

He explained his loss of his mother and her magical reappearance, the rise of Drago Bludvist and his attack against his people and his ability to brainwash other dragons with the use of his Bewilderbeast. He told her how, after he had defeated another evil from taking his home, he realized he was so_ tired_. He was exhausted at the age of eighteen and he no longer wanted to be chained to the island that held all those that once hated him so poignantly. He begged her to understand when he decided to leave everything and everyone behind him to look for something better in front of him.

He even told her about Astrid, his first love and first in many other things. He told her about how she had been just as bad as the others, but he had no room in his heart to hate her for her actions against him. He told her about how bold and strong she was and her beautiful Nadder, Stormfly, who was a dead-aim shot. He told her she would make a great chieftess and hoped she would take his role. He told her about how she had begged him to stay and let all of his past go in order to lead Berk and how he had admitted he couldn't. He told her about how she flew away from him, too heartbroken or too furious to see that it hurt him to leave her.

He bore all to her and afterwards, expected censure and scorn. But she looked at him, across their fire and told her own tale of selfishness. She told him how she met Moira for the first time, how she didn't even bother to ask her name, more intent on using her power for her benefit than anything more. How she hated each suitor without ever bothering to get to know them and just how far she was willing to go to escape her betrothal and, by God, was she proud to outshoot all of them without any trouble. She explained her stress and strife at her mother's disappointment and anger towards her for seeking a way to change her fate. She loathed herself for those actions, for her choices, the shame it brought to her and her family that she couldn't erase no matter how much she did for her people. She would always know and feel that she was the spoiled brat who would rather kill her mother than do what was best for her kingdom.

They sat in silence, the midnight sky lightening to a cerulean.

"If it's any consolation," Hiccup whispered, afraid to break the silence, "I'd go just as far to save myself from a life of unhappiness."

She shot him a tired expression, "Didn't ye?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. Seems like you gave up more. You're still attached to it."

She sighed, "I'll never be free of it. Never."

"You could be. If you…wanted to, I mean."

"If ye…had a chance to change yer fate, would ye?"

He chuckled, "My fate? I guess I'd have to know what the Norns weaved for me."

"Some say…" she blinked, twice, before closing her eyes with a sigh, "Some say our destiny is tied to the land, as much a part of us as we are of it. Others say fate is woven together like a cloth, so that one's destiny intertwines with many others. It's the one thing we search for, or fight to change. Some never find it. But there are some who are led…"

She smiled at the two dragons playfully sparring back and forth, "Some say fate is beyond our command, but I thought I knew better. I thought our destiny was within us, that we only had to be brave enough to see it. But, now…"

She sighed, heavily.

"Now, I think we are just yanked around by the threads of fate, playing to her tune, trying to keep up."

Hiccup looked at barest tip of the rising sun, like an orange hand reaching up to cover the sky.

"Maybe it's both."

She turned to him, eyes wide but pleased. She gave a soft laugh and nodded, as if to herself.

"Aye…Maybe it's both."

* * *

**Chapter seven, complete. **


	9. Chapter Eight: Fight

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD. _**

* * *

Chapter Eight: Fight

**Island off Blackcap**

They were able to sleep through most of the day, packing up at sunset. Hiccup tentatively advised she wear her thicker cloak, since Berk was a ways off and if the wind was any suggestion it would be a cold and miserable night to fly. He was surprised when she agreed easily and strapped her heavy cloak around herself, along with massive tartan. Her bow and arrows were hooked solidly in and she smiled at him when she asked if he was ready to see his home again.

"Listen…uh…"

She quirked a brow, "Yes?"

"I want to keep you away from them, just-just for the start!" He waved his hands, "They won't trust an outsider, Hel, they don't trust my mother, so I just want to _ease_ you in and then, well…maybe stick close for awhile?"

He winced.

She nodded, slowly, biting her lip.

"Do ye think they'd try to hurt me?"

"Unfortunately, with a Nightfury? Yeah...yeah, they may."

"Okay then, I'll wait for yer signal. I'll trust ye."

His shoulders fell away from his ears and his brow relaxed, "Thank you."

She gave him a half shrug and went back to tying things together and onto the back of her dragon. She wore her riding dress shortened so that it flared around her thighs, with brown tights tucked into her boots. She adjusted the plaid cloth to drape across her hips and twist around her waist and fall down her front to dangle by her left knee. At her hip glinted a pin with a sword and four loops that she explained to be her family's crest. Her hair was tied back in the many lumps so it wouldn't knot from being whipped around in the air while they flew.

"Hiccup…?"

"Y-yeah, yes, yep," he stumbled, his wooden bowl and a few items tumbling out of his hands and hitting the dirt.

He stood and watched, wide eyed, hands damp as she approached him.

"Ye know," she whispered, "I never said thank ye, for what ye did. For saving me."

"Don't mention it," he laughed breathily, "I'd do anything—uh, well," he cleared his throat, "_Well_, I've got your back. Always."

She grinned, her nose wrinkling as she snorted lightly.

She reached out, lightning fast and grabbed him by the shoulder seams. He yelped when she pulled him down to her mouth, hitting her awkwardly and mostly biting her lower lip in a sudden kiss. He was still for just a moment, his mind sprinting to keep up in the event, and then his hands were around her back and he slanted his mouth against her own.

She was _soft, _by the gods, she was soft. He almost believed that she would be like Gronkle iron, unmovable muscle, with as thick of hide as a Monstrous Nightmare. Her hard nature, her stubborn streak a mile wide, her white hot fury seemed to burn under her skin as they kissed. She was a better kisser than he believed her to be, she had certainly had some practice at some point in her life and he was comforted to know that she was not so sheltered.

The world expanded and contracted, his mind stuttering to a stop. Time was just an inconvenience, wars were fleeting moments, and all the pain of life fell away at the press of her body against his. Hiccup wasn't a romantic, they didn't really breed those on Berk, but he was amazed to find that there was a moment of blind panic in him at the touch of her mouth against his. There was something about her, there always had been, that had frightened him—and by Thor did he love to dance with danger.

She pulled away with a self-satisfied grin and he matched her. Their cheeks flushed and she looked away.

"Thank ye," she said again, earnest, "And…I do need ye, Hiccup. I need yer help and if ye give it, I promise to…" her mouth screwed up if she had bitten down on a rotten apple and he chuckled, "_To try_ to listen to ye."

"Thank you," he sighed again, "And know that whatever I do tell you, I do it with your best interest at heart."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder, chuckling, "Aye, aye, I'll try, laddie, that's what I said."

He rolled his eyes and the mounted up, the only armor their helmets to keep the wind from drying and hurting their eyes.

"Hiccup?" He looked over to the curved arc of her mask, the sharp glint of the golden lenses, "Race ye!"

And she shot off into the air and Hiccup laughed, Toothless warbling in pleasure to chase after them.

He didn't want to be home, but he knew that it would be better with her by his side.

* * *

**Unnamed Ship**

"I don't want these worthless dragons!"

Ivar was enraged. The beasts behind him roared in congruence, spewing lava and molten fire, barring teeth and claws and destroying everything around them, including each other. Ivar threw anything his seeking hands could find, be it book or sword or anything that would cause damage.

"Easy, damn it, Ivar!" Hvitserk spat, minding his rage.

"I want my dragon! I want my Nightfury!"

"You are the one that can control them, brother," Bjorn came to ease his fury, "Why is it you cannot find her? Is she too far away?"

"That's _not _how magic works, you worthless idiot," Ivar spat, "I cannot find her because someone is blocking me!"

"How do you know the bitch at the castle didn't kill her," Hvitserk groaned, having been at the end of more than one her sharp arrows.

"I would have _felt _her die," Ivar ground his teeth, "She is alive somewhere with a _Völva _that matches my skill…"

He swung his fist wildly, hitting something fragile, knocking it over and hearing it shatter.

Bjorn sighed in agitation.

"Who could match your skill, brother?"

_"__I don't know!" _

He seethed, "I want my dragon. I want my Nightfury! I want it, I want it, I want it!"

"Then you find her," Bjorn spat, tired of his youngest brothers tantrum, "We'll get her but you cannot break the ship to pieces because you lost your beloved dragon."

"I want her now!" He screamed, voice scratching, "Why cannot I not find her, brother? Where has she gone that I cannot follow?"

"I know not, Ivar, but you must control yourself," Bjorn advanced, his tread heavy and unmistakable, "I told you that before and I meant it. Your magic is harming the ship and those that steer it and you have slaughtered four more dragons we could have used."

"They are worthless," he swung his arm and was not surprised when it was gripped, hard, to stop him from hitting his brother.

"They are pawns and even pawns are worth something. Get ahold of yourself."

"Brother," he whined, "I want my dragon."

"And those in Hel want to have died valiantly and made it to the Hall of Valhalla. We do not always get what we want, brother, so we must use what is at our disposal. You are a great weapon, more powerful than any we currently have—so I will say this only once more, control yourself. Because if you turn against us, if you swing to strike against me and Hvitserk, do not doubt that I will cut you down."

He felt himself smile, the grin split his cheeks, "Do you believe you can, brother?"

"I believe I will do what I must. Find your dragon," his footsteps receded, "And stop wrecking my ship!"

Hvitserk left with him, the slamming of his wooden door indicating he was alone. Ivar growled and dove within himself, searching over the mountains and seas to find his beloved Nightfury. She was powerful, so powerful, so dangerous and deadly and he loved her destruction.

_'__Where are you?' _

He could not find her, yet she was alive. Someone was blocking him.

Screaming in fury, the beams of the boat shook in fear of the sorcerer. He would find that damnable creature and whoever dared hide her from his sight and he would flay them piece by piece.

He swore it.

* * *

**Berk**

Hiccup was chewing the inside of his already wounded cheek, blood hot and metallic in his mouth from the ragged gum. He was nervous, more nervous than he wanted to admit, to bring Merida to Berk. Berk was not kind to its own inhabitants, let alone mysterious outsiders now bearing the gift of a Nightfury—one of, if not the most powerful dragon known. She was also a Highlander, a Southerner, and a member of a royal family, which meant she could turn against them if she so chose. He was going to have to brush off his negotiating skills and pray that he could somehow manage to get the village to leave her alone at the least.

He couldn't hide her, not for very long. She'd be harder to keep secret than Toothless and twice as demanding to be recognized by the village.

_'__Damn, damn, damn…'_

Berk rose bright and luminescent from the ocean, like a leviathan. At first he thought it was already aflame, but he quickly realized that every outpost and guard tower had been lit to ward off other dragons as well as keep the sky bright enough to see for miles in the gloom. The sentries of Grimbeard the Ghastly and all the other many ancestors that built his homeland seemed to glare at them with red eyes as they came in screaming towards the island. They landed in the alcove where he had housed Toothless so many years ago, his dragon already stressed and anxious being back on Berk and he was no better off.

"Will ye be alright?" She asked, unpacking in the small cave. It was big enough for her no problem and Saorsa seemed more inclined to sleep nearby instead of on top of her, unlike his own winged beast.

"I'll be fine," he listened for any sirens, any alarms, and his name in the night. They had most likely heard Toothless' wings, hopefully thinking it was only him and may come looking for him on the island. He unhooked his bedroll and packs from Toothless' saddle, dropping them into the cave by hers.

Merida bit her lip, wanting to say more but doubting her own words.

"Don't leave me here too long, then," she shoved him, playfully and he gave her a half-smile, worry stitched between his brows.

"I'll be back by sunup at the latest…" he sighed, "Time to step into the fray…"

"Ye'll be fine," she murmured, taking his hand in her own, "Like ye said. And, should ye need me, I'll be here for ye."

"I know and I'll be back," he reiterated, backing into the flank of a waiting Toothless, half stumbling, "Soon, okay? Wait for me?"

"I will."

He was gone, up through the trees and into the dark. Merida sighed a deep breath, hand reaching to knead at the back of her neck as she unpacked a sleep roll and some of her other supplies. Seeing the little lake out in the alcove, she couldn't wait to get in if Saorsa would warm the water for her. She felt some guilt but Hiccup's nervousness was becoming infectious and now she was worried to meet his people and how they would receive her.

"Hey, darlin'," she ran her her hands under her dragon's neck, smiling at her purr, "Fancy a swim?"

Nightfuries liked water, apparently. Toothless could barely be controlled when he was around a big enough pool, willing to jump in even ice-melt if he was given the opportunity. Saorsa was no different and her tongue lolled as she pranced in circles, excited at the prospect of a dip.

Comforted by the darkness, Merida hesitated only briefly before stripping entirely and slipping into the freezing water. Seeing her shivering, her dragon appeared to warm the pond with her plasma-based fire. Merida cooed in pleasure to see the water lit up with the bright, white-purple beams that shot from her dragons mouth, still amazed by the power within the creature.

Merida washed and helped scrub down her dragon, who still had a one or two raw spots from where she had fought with Toothless. Although she was amazed to see how her magic could affect and change her dragon, it had been a serious risk that had nearly cost them their lives. She sighed, rubbing soap into the warm hide of her flank, pausing to rest her brow across her scales. Saorsa warbled, questioning, and Merida wanted to hurl something into the forest. She berated herself, quietly, for everything that had happened.

She had fought with him.

Nearly killed him.

Several times.

And then she had the idea to kiss him.

It had been a thought she had had for some time. As foolish as it was, she found herself liking him more and more. He was soft and gentle, the way he teased and acted with the dragons, chasing and playing fetch as if they were merely massive, scaled dogs. Yet he was also focused and serious, sitting in a chair by the kitchen hearth and whittling as she told him stories of her youth in the castle. He was considerate and caring, taking care of her people and worrying for his own and the beasties that attacked them, even if he didn't believe himself to care. He was hurt from his past and weighed down by the expectations of his father and homeland. They were a lot alike and when he shared his story, his isolation, his hurt, she couldn't help but want him even more.

But she couldn't stay with him, even if she was finding that she wanted to do so. She was a destined queen, the heir of DunBroch and she was supposed to take the throne and keep her people and land safe.

_'__All this time spent schooling you, preparing you, giving you everything we never had…'_

But DunBroch lie empty now. Gaping open like a wound, there were no workers or maids or cobblers, no farmers or plow hands or venders. The streets were cold and open and stained with blood, once filled with the corpses of the citizens that could not or would not leave and lost their lives in the process. Her castle and home were ravaged, the items and tokens of her youth defiled. She was itching to leave when they did yet she ached to stay to see if anyone would return.

But no one dared.

What was the use of a crown with no land?

Where did she belong without a kingdom to rule?

Was she free of her obligations if DunBroch was another memory, like the homeland of Mor'Du, meant to be a legend, a future lesson, that children like herself doubted?

She wondered where her parents were but she dared not look, she could not bring herself to know. If they mourned her loss, as if she were dead to the land, she would break and fly back to tell them that she still lived. If they believed her lost somewhere and were looking for her, she could not help herself from hunting them down and assuring them she was fine.

But, the further away she flew, the more she realized she did not want to go back.

Saorsa warmed the water more, white hot light shooting out to illuminate the pond life underneath her. She caught the image of a few half-formed frogs and fish swimming around her knees, shocked as she was to see such a brilliant beam of light. Merida laughed, broken from her thoughts, nuzzling the dragon as they swam.

Feeling playful and safe, she called her magic to her hands and began casting blue-white light in the air, creating orbs like the wisps to float above them, like stars they could touch. Saorsa rolled on her back, floating, and batted at a few that rose and dipped like bubbles, playing with them and warbling in amusement. They were warm in her hands, like fresh baked rolls that crackled with an energy she had yet to fully understand or harness. They were part of her magic and wound around the pair at her will, twirling past her fingertips, sauntering overhead, ambling around the tree branches.

Her laughter followed, bubbling out of her like her magic and she couldn't help but fill the cove around her with every piece of herself, more at home in the darkened woods than she had ever been on the throne of her homeland.

* * *

Hiccup landed to a silent village. Toothless warbled, high pitched and nervous, as he dismounted. Every light and lantern seemed to be lit, but no one was walking through the village, not a guard or sentry to alert them should someone or something attack.

The squeak of his prosthesis seemed deafening in night as he traipsed straight to Gobber's hut. It was his hand that scratched the note about the village and he would seek his council first and foremost. He went to knock, but the door opened before he could, his old mentor standing above him with wide, blue eyes.

He was swept up into his partially metal arms, laughing despite himself. Gobber had always been a kindred spirit, he was the one that understood Hiccup more than most, had cared more than most. He was more father than Stoick had been, more friend than Snotlout or either of the twins had been. And more than anything, Gobber understood the want to travel, the need to explore. He had been a sailor for a large portion of his life, living on trading outposts and spending time on strange worlds and islands. He was the most well-traversed person on Berk, save maybe himself.

He was sucked into the house of his friend, the door shut on Toothless with a guttural promise of fish later. Hiccup was quickly dropped, but a single hand still rested on his shoulder as his old friend checked him over.

"No more missin' limbs, eh? Better off than myself after a few rough years of travel!"

"Well, Toothless definitely makes things easier," Hiccup chuckled, "Sailing is way worse."

"Aye, 'tis," his eyes softened, "Ye look happy, boy-o."

The younger man grasped the arm along his shoulder, "I am, Gobber. It's better out there."

His smile was sad, "I know it, son."

Gobber only dared call him such when they were alone, but Hiccup found it more natural than when Stoick called him the same title. Somehow, Stoick could turn the endearment into an insult, a reprimand, a threat.

"So," Hiccup put his hands on his hips, "Tell me, what's going on?"

His expression crumpled and the man trundled into the small living room, sitting on an old chair that was padded with mismatched fabrics. Hiccup pulled up a stool and squatted down, hands clasped as he waited. Grump, the dragon that kept the bellows burning, snored by the roaring fire, unconcerned with the new visitor in his home and did not bat a single eye open.

"I would'nae have called ye if it wasn't—"

"A real emergency, I know that, Gobber," Hiccup felt a knot grow tight and heavy in his throat, "Tell me."

"Something is…wrong," he sighed, "With the dragons. The ones that attack us are being controlled but we can'nae find what or who. We believed it to be another dragon, like the DeathSong, ye know, but there's no other species anywhere near the island."

"I haven't found anything like that, either, at least not to that extent…" Hiccup supplied, seeing his friend's shoulders fall.

"Then it may be a human," he rubbed his hook over his face, "I don't know. But they attack and they strike at our resources. They hit our farms and our crops and our herds. Anything to feed ourselves or protect ourselves. I know an attack when I see one, boy-o, and this is a slow strangle."

Hiccup saw the hook dig deeply into the chair, leaving grooves.

"Why? Why would a dragon want to destroy crops? Why not take our sheep or cattle and leave?"

"Exactly, that's why I think this is a man, a spiteful, hateful creature, someone who wants to make us weak so that when they come, offering salvation, for a price that is, we'll have no choice but to take it."

"But how could a _person_ control a dragon to that extent?" Hiccup stood and paced, unevenly, through the small room.

"We need yer help, son," Gobber sighed, "We have a massive order to place at the Crone's Port and we need ye to help protect the island."

"An order? Really, Gobber?"

"Now, don't give me that," he snapped, "If we have that money, we can import stores, enough to keep everyone alive through several winters yet."

"Fine, but I don't think I should stay. If this deal is as important as you claim, you'll need all the heavy hitters we have."

"We can work out the logistics later," Gobber sighed, "But it's good to have ye, it means we're more assured.

"Tell me about yer travels, then," the older man sat back with sigh, watching in burgeoning amusement as Hiccup stumbled, mid-stride, and began to sputter and gesture.

Hiccup told him, quickly, quietly, of how he nearly died and his crash landing in the stone circle. He explained how the _Völva _bound his life to Toothless, how they shared emotions and feelings now. He then proceeded to stutter and mutter about Merida.

"So," he rubbed the back of his neck, "She's…here. The princess. With me," he winced, "On Berk. With the other Nightfury."

"And where is the lass?" He was on his foot, concerned.

"She's in the cove, where I kept Toothless."

"Boy, are ye out of yer damn mind?" His hook grabbed him by the borrowed shirt Merida had stitched him, green and fine, "What if someone finds her there? They'll slaughter her!"

"She has a Nightfury to protect her and who is going to be out at this time of night? I'll go to my dad, explain the situation—!"

"No!" He wheeled and Hiccup jumped, "No, lad, ye can'nae go to yer father right now."

"Why not?"

"There was an incident…with Valka. He's not in his right mind at the moment."

"My mom," he gasped, reaching awkwardly to grasp the large man, "Is she—?"

"Nay! Lad, nay, no, no, no, she's fine! She's just…not on the island."

There was a beat, Hiccup's green _(the green of his mother) _meeting Gobber's sky blue.

"Why is she not on the island, Gobber?"

"Eh…" his hook scratched the back of his neck, "She may, well, boy, listen, yer parents…it's been a long road and, well, yer ma—"

"Gobber, spit it the Hel out!"

"She wants a divorce, Hiccup. She and yer father had a serious fight, in front of the whole village, no less, and she left about three days ago and she has'nae come back."

Groaning in annoyance, Hiccup threw his hands in the air, "Are you kidding me?"

"Ehh, no," Gobber shrugged, "And to say Stoick has taken it poorly would be an understatement."

Hiccup scrubbed his hands over his face, "What does that—? Y'know what, no, I'll handle that later. I've got to go get Merida before sunrise and introduce her to the village."

Gobber was scraping the inside of his ear with his pinky, "Eh, as what, boy-o?"

"As-as-as…I don't know, what do you mean, as what? As a girl with-with a Nightfury! As one of us! An ally!"

"Yeah, all well and good, but how do ye expect the village to trust an outsider with that amount of fire power?"

"Ugh!" Hiccup slumped back into the stool, "I don't know. That's why I'm stashing her in the woods at the moment, Gobber."

The older man watched the younger with a keen, assessing eye. He had seen him like this before, many years prior, when a young blonde girl came close to the forge or asked to have her axe sharpened, Hiccup would dissolve into a fit of stutters and half-spun jokes. It was equal parts hilarious and pitiful, but once they had managed to somehow get into an awkward relationship that bloomed into a deep, careful love, Gobber had believed it would end in a long, fruitful marriage with children that assured the Haddock line.

But then Hiccup saw war and what it could do and the damage that had begun to heal was torn anew and he couldn't be held down for much longer than a few moments. After Viggo and then Drago, he couldn't focus on much and avoided Berk for days at a time, despite the nervousness it brought his mother and friends. He did little and spoke even less, eyes always glued to the open horizon. And when he finally approached his old mentor, speaking of a recurring madness that cycled over and over again, a feeling of suffocation, being buried under dead humans and dragons, his brain skipping hours and sometimes days, Gobber knew that there was little time left before the boy got up and realized that the world was open to him.

It was best he leave. That was what Gobber had told him when he asked and seeing him here now, it had done him great good.

Just not with women.

"Ye could always say she was yer bride…"

The boy sputtered and spat, hands flapping like freshly hatched dragon wings, coughing when he choked on air.

Gobber sat, one brow raised.

"She-we-I-no! No, no, no!"

He wheezed and Gobber waited.

"She would—I mean she, wow, Gobber, Astrid was violent but Merida puts her right hook to shame!"

He turned pale as a yak belly, "Don't _ever _tell her I told you that. She'd kill me."

"Eh, which one?"

"Neither! Both!" He yelped.

"Uh-huh…wow, alrighty then," Gobber stood, "Let's go get the lass and the new dragon. Best to have everything straightened out before everyone meets her. Ye picked her up in the Highlands, ye say? Y'know, I was there once, many years ago, during a raid. We fought the most fearsome man I ever met, well, save Stoick, and he called himself the Bear…"

Hiccup listened, only paying half attention, unable to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

* * *

Astrid knew the sound of the Nightfury's wings even in her dreams. For years, the siren call would echo in her eardrums, haunt her nightmares, ring in her head. She loved Toothless, truly she did, he was nothing but a sweet dragon, but he was the most dangerous monster that any of them dared to tame. Toothless was a dragon unmatched, some of the untamable dragons aside.

But she heard the siren and was up and out of bed before she could really understand what she was doing. She didn't want to see Hiccup, not really—what she wanted was answers. If there was anyone who would know what was happening, it would be the boy that began this whole alternate reality where Vikings rode dragons instead of slaughtered them. He came because he knew that they needed him, someone let him know about what was happening, most likely Gobber or his mother. And he arrived to help save them and Norns did she hate the thought that they might ever need his help, but they obviously did.

Stormfly chirruped in greeting when she woke her and she began apologizing softly about getting her up so early. Just because her rider couldn't sleep didn't mean the poor dragon didn't deserve some easy hours in the dark of night. They were both up with the sun, usually, which made this even more difficult.

Astrid knew exactly where Hiccup was. He always hid in that damn cove, the one she followed him to nearly seven years prior, where she had met the friendly beast that had destroyed homes and parts of the village in only the desire to destroy. It was where she experienced flight for the first time, as terrifying as it was, and how Hiccup was able to constantly compete and exceed her during Dragon Training. Although it seemed to hold both good and bad memories for both of them, that's where he always would hide away from herself, his mother, and his father.

The only reason he probably came back was for Gobber.

She landed outside of the area and in the woods, simply because it was easier to get in and out. Astrid hopped off and heard a high, feminine laugh that made her pause.

Did Hiccup…bring a girl to Berk with him?

Her chest constricted as the gestured for Stormfly to keep low and silent. She tiptoed through the underbrush, peeking through branches to see what was waiting for her inside the dark. She felt her throat clench, expecting to see something going on between her once love and his new one, but she wasn't expecting what was actually before her.

Astrid covered her mouth to smother a gasp.

There was light, balls of bright blue light, hanging in the air as if someone had plucked the stars from the black velvet backdrop of the sky. They seemed to drift lazily, hauntingly, in the air as a Nightfury _(Toothless?) _shot beams of plasma into the dark pond, making it glow a brilliant, hazy, lavender. At the center was a girl, her age if her body was anything to go off, standing in the center of the entire scene. She was bare from the hips up, her arms outstretched as the manipulated the energy around her like a conductor, making small and larger ones with a flick of her wrist to join the dance of the others.

Lit from below, it appeared as if she had no eyes—but then she looked towards where the other girl was hiding and she saw that they were glowing the same color as her magical power.

_She was a Völva._

It made sense now, all of it. It was her. It was all _her, _this random bitch who dared step foot on _her_ island. There was no other way to control the dragons, there was no beast that could command them to behave the way they were—but a person with _seiðr_? It would be nothing but a game, easy! She was the one making them attack the village, killing children and the elderly, then slaughtering themselves if they were caught. She was going to murder them all….but for what? Did she hold some grudge against her people, did she loathe all Vikings? Did she hate dragons like Drago and want to make them into her own army? Astrid didn't know but she knew one thing for certain:

This girl was a_ monster. _

And somehow she had taken Toothless from Hiccup.

Was he _dead?_

Was his body somewhere in the ocean, floating, being feasted upon by birds and fish?

She had probably taken his dragon right from underneath him!

Astrid shook herself and reached for Stormfly, her hands shaking. She didn't bother to bring her axe, she didn't believe she'd need it to meet with Hiccup tonight. But if the girl got near the other dragons? If she got near Stormfly, even, she'd take over her mind and make her drop Astrid into the ocean or be run through with the top branch of a pine tree.

No, Astrid swore—this would end here, tonight. She would not allow her to reach the others, she would not allow her to endanger the other riders, the ones she had helped train.

She was vulnerable now, naked, weaponless. Astrid was downwind, Toothless could not smell her here if he was cognizant enough to know her smell against the trees. She could ambush her, strangle the life from her before she could use her magic against her and end this nightmare before she would go in search of Hiccup with a tracking Terror.

Moving slowly and keeping low to the ground, Astrid inched closer and closer to the edge of the cove. Sure, she may not be smelled by Toothless, but he could still hear her—and Astrid wasn't sure if he was being commanded to attack anything that may endanger the _Völva._

She had to time this right. There was no way for her to get inside without alerting the two, so she had to jump, land, and get close enough to inflict bodily damage. The damn lights would show her moving form anyway, so it made more sense to jump in and try to kill her before she could do too much damage to her with her blasted magic.

If she died, so be it.

She'd give her life to save her people.

The girl laughed again when Toothless hopped from the water, shaking himself to get rid of the droplets that clung to his dark hide. He trundled into the cave where he had slept so many years ago, missing half of his tail-fin. It made Astrid sick to think that he was having to relive a nightmare without even knowing what he was doing, she was manipulating his body, but where was his mind? Did he see out of his green eyes, did he know that she was not his rider? Or did she remove Hiccup completely from his mind, would he even recognize him again if he saw him?

No, she couldn't focus on that now.

The witch stood as well, getting out the water. The orbs of light danced closer to her, drawing a creepy parade that followed as she sat, nude, on a rock and rung out her massive amount of dark curls.

_Now._

Astrid hit the ground running, her heart dancing in her chest as she screamed a battle cry. The girl, shocked, stared for a moment before she raised her hand and she was rushed with the bright lights that blinded her, but she continued to run forward, intent on killing her.

She yelled at her in a different tongue, lilting, nonsensical.

_"Are ye crazy?!"_

She rushed past the lights, seeing that her jacket was alight with small blue flames that flickered and blew out and so she continued, unencumbered. When she got closer, she grabbed onto the witch's arm, still slick with water and the two women wrestled. The girl was stronger than she thought and her blue eyes danced like dragon fire this close. She was punched hard across the jaw, but her grip was sure as she tossed the redhead into the dirt.

Astrid threw her and she landed on her ass, mud and leaves caking against the pale, wet skin of her thighs. Unabashed and furious, Merida's hands flashed bright blue and she spat threats in her mother tongue at the blonde girl.

_"Come on, you!"_

Astrid rushed her and was flipped, hard, onto her back. Vines and plants began to reach out and contain her, outlined in a blue haze that proved they were not moving on their own. She wrestled free and stood again with a shriek of rage, only to be nailed hard across the brow with a soaring rock. Groaning, blinking blood from her blue eyes, she looked up to see the girl throwing more and more with her magic, pelting her body with projectiles as she took slow, steady steps backwards.

The dragon had appeared, looking vicious and dangerous—and, Astrid realized with horror, was distinctly not Toothless.

She was hit with one of her light orbs, it barely grazing her shoulder and she screamed, white hot pain lacing up her arm. It had eaten through her sleeves and past several layers of skin, bearing the same yellow-white of a deep burn. She sputtered in pain, she had just raced through them, how did they now possess such power?

_Damn the Völva!_

Throwing a stone of her own, she was glad when it hit the girl in the knee and she yelped, falling backwards into the ground. The dragon roared, surely alerting the village to her plight and she heard Stormfly caw from the wood. This distracted the other girl and Astrid threw another rock, hitting her hard in the shoulder and she stumbled back, falling into the ground again.

Astrid made the distance and pounced, hands on her throat. She gasped, clawing desperately at her grip, bright blue eyes flickering like a lantern in a strong wind.

The lights above her guttered and winked a few times in tandem with her bright gaze, several spiraling into the trees or pond like bright shooting stars. The trees were set ablaze with her magical fire and Astrid pressed harder on her throat, attempting to break her trachea.

The dragon moved, swiping her hard across the face and sending her rolling into the ground. She spat blood and groaned, whistling for Stormfly, who came from above shooting dozens of spikes.

Her aim was as good as her own, one hitting the girl in the thigh and sending her to the ground with a great cry of pain. She knelt, her leg spewing black blood into the ground beneath her. Astrid stood, rubbing away the blood from her head as the two dragons faced off, believing that Stormfly could take this new Nightfury long enough for her to kill the witch.

The lights had faded to just one or two now, suspended in the night, hanging but they were flickering. Nadder poison was fast acting and would certainly be burning.

When she got closer, she saw the tears running down her cheeks and her baleful glare. She was slack, barely holding on and Astrid hoisted a heavy rock above her head, intending very much to bash her brains across the cove and let her rot.

Her eyes flashed open, entirely eclipsed in blue, hands raised. Astrid was thrown across the area, hitting the boulders near the entrance with a sick thud. Her ribs cracked and her head was thrown against the hard stone, blood immediately rushing down her neck and back. Her vision was hazy as she dropped, limp and listless against the compact ground, the air rushing out of her.

She laughed though, quietly.

Even if she died, the witch would go with her.

Her people were safe

Their dragons were safe.

She did it.

* * *

Merida couldn't stop gasping, her hand hesitantly going to the spike in her leg as she hissed in pain. Her fingers were going numb and she knew that the venom would quickly start to affect other parts of her body if she didn't fix it. Breathing through her teeth and riding the adrenaline, she yanked the projectile from her leg with a rough scream of pain and tossed it halfway across the clearing in pure rage.

Hiccup left his pack here and he had Nadder antidote, he showed her, but her dragon had taken off to distract the girl's and she could barely stand. She clawed her way into the cave, legs entirely paralyzed and sent out a summons with her magic, bringing the pack to her. She rifled through it with shaking hands and pried the lid off with her teeth, downing the vial in three gulps before she fell unconscious against the cold stone floor, naked and bleeding.

* * *

Hiccup heard the sounds of battle above him, the screeching of furious dragons and two plasma bolts shot out across the sky that boomed loudly in the clouds. Toothless was up before himself or Gobber had to command him, racing upwards towards the commotion that was obviously between Saorsa and another dragon. Panicking, Hiccup took off as fast as his stump leg would allow him, chasing into the dark wood toward the cove, Gobber close behind. He thanked the old _Völva _again for allowing him to have some of Toothless' heightened senses, easily finding the pathway through the dappled moonlight.

Hiccup skidded down the rocks into the entrance of the cove, nearly stumbling over the body of Astrid. Hopping around her, he swore loudly and immediately dropped to his knees to assess the damage of his once love and comrade. Her head was bashed and bleeding and her breathing was shallow, she had multiple cuts around her body and had been obviously been in a fist fight. Hands hovering over her, Hiccup sputtered and immediately began to look over the area for Merida.

He called her name, once, twice, standing from kneeling and looking over the area. Gobber had scrambled down and was handling Astrid with great care, muttering about what could have happened. Hiccup moved across the bank of the pond, running, heart constricting as he stumbled into the cave and found the princess lying there, naked, bleeding, covered in mud and leaves.

He shook her shoulder and called her name, breathless. He was too panicked to even consider her state of dress as he rolled her over, aghast as the massive puncture wound in her thigh that appeared like a bottomless cavern that may even go right through the leg. It had been from a Nadder's spike, obviously, where Stormfly must have managed to hit her. Scrambling for his pack that nearby, he was hit with a rush of relief to find that she had consumed the antidote, holding his chest as he gasped. He went to wrap her in her tartan, the plaid monstrosity that belonged to her father, but hesitated to get blood on something so precious and wrapped her once more in his wool cape. She was freezing, the night had grown steadily colder, and the paralytic qualities in the poison wasn't helping her circulation.

Whistling twice, loudly, he wasn't surprised to hear the dual wings of the tidal wave of power that was his and the princess' dragons—they landed, not much worse for ware, but Stormfly limped rather pitifully once she staggered down into the cove.

"Gobber, take Astrid to Gothi on Toothless, I'll take Merida with me."

"Where, lad? Ye can't expect—what in Thor's name could have happened?"

"A brawl," Hiccup spat, "Merida doesn't know our language and from the looks of things, Astrid found her to be a threat and they fought."

His throat kept double-clenching and he continued to clear his throat, his lower back was soaked in sweat and his hands felt entirely numb. If Merida hadn't been able to get to his pack, if she didn't know that the Deadly Nadder shot venomous spikes…he would be gone and so would Toothless, dead on the ground as if Hel had reached up and yanked him to Nifleheim, Merida close on their heels.

"Boy-o, just what in Thor's name did you bring to our shores?"

"She-she, look, she's not-not—!"

"Talk sense, Hiccup!"

Hiccup snarled over the two dragons, "I will explain once it is _handled_. They are both incapacitated at the moment and need medical attention. I'll handle her, you handle Astrid. Understood?"

Gobber clucked his tongue and straddled the back of his dragon, cradling Astrid in his arms. They took off slow and gentle and Hiccup took Saorsa, guiding her to the roof of his old home. Hiccup burst into his house and laid the princess on the couch and had her dragon set fire to the hearth, feeding it wood. His father stomped downstairs spewing curses, took one look at the situation and began asking rapid fire questions. Hiccup dodged as best as he could, giving only the bare minimum, but his father wouldn't not slide on a few particulars.

Typical Stoick.

"Why did ye bring an outsider here, boy?"

"Her home was attacked by Vikings—"

"And that concerns us?"

"Yes! It-it does, because—!"

"Son, you can'nae bring a stranger here and demand we give her aid when it may come at the risk of us and ours!"

"She's not a stranger, dad!"

His mind was racing and he was too scared to think of anything other than what Gobber had suggested.

"Then who is she, son?"

"She's my-uh, listen, dad, I've known her for awhile," he sighed, groaning at the beating he was sure to get _(even though it would be delayed due to her injuries). _

"I care not about the time ye've spent together, boy!"

"Dad," he gave him a glare, bile pooling foul in his mouth, his head falling, "She's my bride."

* * *

Astrid woke first and began raving at Gothi about the red haired _Völva _in the woods who was manipulating their dragons and causing all their problems. Gobber was able to explain to her and Gothi that, no, the girl in the forest wasn't the one that had caused so many problems and had arrived with Hiccup to help them solve the issue. There had been some screaming apparently and knowing Astrid she probably threw several of Gothi's medicines, but they had kept the main secret away from the public and Merida wasn't going to be chased off the island.

The lie, however, that Hiccup wanted to remain between himself and few others, could not be contained. The village was soon ecstatic with the news that the heir of Berk had returned and now he brought with him a bride from a far away land. Rumors spread faster than dragon fire across a thatched roof. More and more was said about where she was from, her riches in land and her dowry of golden wheat fields that would feed the village with free imports. Stoick tried to quell these lies and reiterate that they needed no outside help, but even he couldn't manage to keep mouths from flapping. He was offered a million congratulations, gifts and blessings for a fruitful and happy marriage before Merida had even woken up and he was grateful, at least in the moment, that they had accepted her.

It was better than them both being chased off the island on the backs of their dragons.

Toothless and Saorsa were wary of the village and would remain for a few days but then fly off together. When they did land, they were given garlands and praise as the saviors of Berk and of their species. Fishlegs had nearly fainted when he saw the female, making notes and drawings in the book of dragons between her rounder scale structure versus Toothless' sharper visage. The twins mostly ignored him and Snotlout punched him once he saw him, then asked if Merida was as hideous as he heard before sauntering off towards the smithy.

Yep, good to be home, alright.

In the meantime, he tended to Stormfly and Merida in tandem. Astrid was too weak to leave her home and it was best if she remained in bed, so Hiccup spent time fixing the broken leg the dragon had sustained during her fight with Saorsa. It was unfortunate now that whenever either Nightfury approached, she took off and attempted to hide away from them. Toothless was obviously hurt from the treatment, but Saorsa was quick to bare teeth whenever she got near the Nadder.

If the tensions between dragons wasn't enough, Astrid was more furious than ever. She didn't bode well sitting, doing nothing and resting wasn't really a strong suit for the blonde and her injuries having been sustained by Hiccup's new "side project" didn't make her any more amicable. Being begged by both himself and Gobber to keep her powers a secret also made her furious, simply because she felt as though the girl was a threat to the village and could endanger them all because of her unchecked abilities. Hiccup made promises and assurances he couldn't keep and he was nearly positive she would go straight to Stoick when he explained his lie about her position to keep her on Berk and trusted by the village populace.

Astrid hated lying and hiding the truth was a lie.

She had argued adamantly that "the girl" was dangerous—she had thrown her across the cove and nearly cracked her skull open. Hiccup had argued back that it wasn't the problem that she was a threat, they trained dragons for Thor's sake, it was that she had something that Astrid couldn't compete against.

Gobber had thrown him right out of Gothi's after he had promptly stuck his foot in his mouth.

"Boy," his hook was always in his collar, ever since he was small, yanking and hauling him around, "To go against Astrid is to go against the good of the village—remember that."

And, damn the multi-handed bastard, he was right.

Saorsa kept watch over Merida during the day, which gave Hiccup some freedom to understand the severity of the situation. Gobber had undersold the problem, the village was already half starved and the reserves were being run through at quadruple the rate due to the increase in both human and dragons on the island. Fishers had to sail further and further out to sea in order to find enough food and there was nothing to trade after they distributed grain and meat to the citizens, mostly due to the dragons devouring up all the schools nearby the island. There were too few yak and sheep to slaughter, it would doom the village later if there were no pairs to mate in the coming months and there was no money in the coffers to buy more herds.

Berk was dying faster than when they were being attacked by dragons.

And Hiccup didn't have any answers yet, nor had he actually witnessed another attack. Apparently they came and went like the tide and would sometimes attack for days in a row and then other times they'd simply disappear as if they never existed.

Merida awoke like a phoenix, furious and deadly. She had stumbled halfway down the stairs in one of his mother's shifts, blood running down her leg from under her bandages and awash in sweat from a terrible fever that made her delirious. He was more than lucky that her magic took focus and some kind of concentration or she would have set him on fire or thrown him out the window when he hoisted her up into his arms and, squalling and squirming like an exhausted toddler, took her back upstairs and into bed.

"I will _not_ have ye, Lachlan," she spat, furious, fighting him as he tried to pull up the shift to bandage her leg again, "Ye will _never _sit on the throne of DunBroch!"

There were more ramblings about people he didn't know and was finally able to calm her enough to bandage the wound. It was red and inflamed and he went digging through her potions to find her own magical ingredients, begging her brokenly if she could recognize what she packed and if it would help an infection. She muttered incoherently and Hiccup stifled a furious scream as he tumbled down the stairs, intending to go to Gothi no matter how uncomfortable she was treating a witch.

"Son!"

Hiccup paused, not turning to greet his father who sat at the table, "Dad, I'm in a hurry, can it wait?"

The heavy footsteps of Stoick the Vast rose to fall behind him, "How is she?"

"Her fever won't break. I'm going to Gothi."

"I think we both know who would be a better choice," Stoick put his hand on Hiccup's shoulder, "Someone who knows dragon venom better than most."

"Dad…I don't think we should—if mom isn't ready to come home, then we should respect that—"

"So, you'd let your girl die then?"

Gobber was right. Stoick had become obsessive, manipulative. He claimed his actions were for the village but really it was for Valka. He searched the islands near and far in a desperate attempt to find her, but Hiccup knew if his mother didn't want to be found she wouldn't be.

Sighing through his nose, he nodded.

"I'll take a Tracking Terror and I'll find her."

Stoick nodded, pleased, prideful, "I'll keep watch over the girl. Make sure she stays safe."

"Yeah," Hiccup spat as he went back upstairs to strap on his armor, "Thanks."

He managed not to the slam the door to his room, knowing that Merida rested down the hall. He cursed and spat under his breath, furious that he was being roped into more and more peoples problems. He had no intention of getting involved between anymore of Berk's issues, yet here he was. He had no intention of getting involved with the princess and her drama involving the raid, but here he was. He had no intention of getting between his mother and father, yet once again, he was!

Hiccup felt small here, he felt young and powerless and alone on Berk. It was the land of his people, the land of his father, but he was nothing like them. He never had been and he hoped he never would be as cruel and ruthless as his own people. He had witnessed his father and Gobber and many of the men laugh as they severed heads of men and beasts alike, bathe in the blood of the slaughter, enjoyed themselves in raping and pillaging.

Merida was right: they were monsters.

And he didn't want to be like them.

And neither did his mother.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Hiccup paused before going downstairs, turning and heading to check on Merida one last time. She had kicked off the coverlet from her legs, sweat collecting at her temple. When he saw how shallow her breathing was the doubt fled from his mind and he closed the door and leapt down the stairs two at a time. With a sharp command that his father make sure she be safe until they returned, he whipped himself out into the night and whistled three times, loudly, for Toothless. Saorsa appeared from the woods behind him, yellow eyes blinking in concern.

"Stick close to the house, okay, girl? She may need you and I don't think my dad is up to it."

She purred in appreciation, rubbing her head, rounder than her male counterparts, against his open palm. Smiling softly, he scratched her idly and waited for the telltale scream of wings.

Sure enough, there on the horizon, Toothless' shadow appeared and skidded atop the cresting waves like a polished black stone. He shot through the sky like an arrow, the sound of his wings alerting the villagers milling around after dinner at the Great Hall.

"Nightfury! Get down!"

Hiccup turned to ask who in the village was still wary of Toothless at this point, when he was bowled over by the very same dragon. Hiccup groaned as his friend cooed and clicked, laughing at the rider now being crushed under his weight. The boy sputtered, laughing pitifully, before shucking the dragon from himself and standing to brush the dirt from his armor and command that Toothless use his Alpha power to summon a Tracking Terror.

Half a dozen flocked to him and he laughed at the bewilderment on his dragon's face as they found perches on his back and head, making him shake their sharp claws off.

He presented them all with his mother's hair pin. They immediately took off and split up in six different routes that Hiccup knew he would have to follow to find his mother. There was no way she made herself easy to find, but if she heard Toothless she'd come in search of him.

Climbing on to the back of his dragon, Hiccup strapped his helm across his face. He looked back at his home once, seeing Stoick standing at the doorway and took off into the night in search of his lost mother.

* * *

**Chapter eight, complete!**


	10. Chapter Nine: Birthright

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Birthright

**Archipelago**

It took half the night, but he was right—she came soaring from the clouds around a cluster of isles to the East, standing on top of Cloudjumper. They waved, frantic, before landing and embracing.

"Oh, Hiccup!" She crushed him to her and he gasped out a greeting before she pushed him away, "Ye look good, my, you look great! Oh, Hiccup!"

She yanked him into her grip again and he gasped, laughing.

"I've missed you, too, mom."

"Have ye…" she let him go and distanced herself from him, "Have ye been home? To Berk?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Yeah…"

"Did ye come here on Stoick's orders then?"

"No!" He yelped at how sharp her voice was, "Mom, I need your help. Someone is hurt and I don't have anyone better to turn to."

She scoffed but paused, "Hurt?"

He rolled his eyes, "She was hit with a Deadly Nadder spine."

"Oh," she paused, her hands lowering from her hips, "How deep? And how long was it in?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "There was a fight and I wasn't there to see what happened. She's had a fever for days on end and she doesn't wake up."

"Delirious?"

"Yeah."

"How much antidote did ye give her?"

He shrugged, "Whatever was in my vial? I guess…uh, this much?" He held is fingers out, an inch or so apart.

She hummed, "And the wound?"

"Inflamed," he rubbed his hand over his face, "Mom, you have to come back with me. I'll help you hide from dad as soon as you've helped Merida, but I need you."

Her brow raised, "Merida?"

He nodded, "Yes, she's…"

He had to decide to tell her the truth or the lie.

"Mom, I nearly died in the Highlands…"

It was a quick version, but he laid out how he got entangled with old _Völva, _who gave him another chance at life should he do as she commanded. He thought the deal was short lived, but it was indefinite unless he could find where two salt water streams met. His mother, aghast that he would be so foolish as to deal with a witch, was more ready to assist when she realized his own life was on the line.

She strapped some of her necessities on the back of Cloudjumper, but they were not meant to sustain her for a long time on Berk. She had no intention of going back to Stoick and that was clear on her face.

Hiccup sighed, he was tired of being between everyone and their issues.

"This lass…"

He could feel his shoulders tense.

"There is more to this than ye merely needing her alive."

He couldn't hide much from her.

"I like her," he shrugged, trying to should nonchalant but very aware that his voice pitched higher, "She's…a lot like me."

She gave him a half grin, "Then I know I'll like her. Let's go."

Putting their armor back on, they headed into the gloomy darkness of a Northern night, blending perfectly into the clouds as they shot across the sky.

_'__Please don't let me be too late…'_

* * *

**Castle Tioram, MacIntosh Lands**

"Lass," Fergus was shaking her again, "Lass! Elinor!"

She groaned, sitting up, "What?"

"Ye were screaming in yer sleep again," he groused, "Callin' for Merida."

She slumped against her pillow, still wet with her tears and curled her legs up close to her chest.

"Can I get ye something?"

"My daughter," she spat, "That's all I want."

"Those good for nothin' boys are out there, lookin' for her now, lass."

"So?" She whipped the coverlet from her legs and stood, pacing in the darkness of their borrowed room in the MacIntosh castle.

"So we must believe in her," Fergus assured, the dark rings around his eyes evidence that neither of them were getting any rest, "We must have faith that we have prepared her for this."

"No," she shook her head, "No, no, Fergus…_ye_ prepared her for this. I did…I did nothing but discourage her from her from…from learning how to fight and now…what if…?"

"Lass," his sigh was as tired as her own, "We can'nae go in these circles anymore."

"Why can we not go and find her?"

"Because, Elinor," he stood, sneering in fury, "We are the King and Queen of the four clans. We…must be willing to sacrifice anything for their safety. Even our own."

"No," she whimpered, crying, "I do'nae…I can'nae…"

"I know," he embraced her, his cheek on her hair, noticing how much thicker the gray stripe had become over the last few weeks, "I know, lass. I want nothing more than to get on my horse and ride back to DunBroch and fetch her.

"But we can't. She's…"

"No, don't ye dare—!"

"She must come second to the good of the land," he spat, "That is what we agreed to when we took this position."

"Fergus…My _baby_…"

His grip tightened and she sobbed, "I know. But she's out there, Elinor. She's out there and she's alive, I know it. I feel it," he thumped his chest hard, "In here. She's out there and we just have to wait. We'll find her."

"But, what—?"

"We can'nae ask ourselves that question. She's there. Believe me. Believe in her."

He took her hands in his, kissing them.

"I taught her to fight, to wield a sword against what she believed to wrong in this world and she could stand against an army of the clans. She saved ye and the boys. She knows how to train falcons, she can shoot finer than anyone I've known in my life. She's tougher than all of those boys out lookin' for her, lass, and I have no doubt that she'd take down anyone or anything in her path. She's strong, Elinor, and she's," his throat clenched, "Damn her, she's brave. So brave. So put thoughts of her being gone out of yer mind, because she's out there. She's waiting on us and we just have to be brave enough for her."

She blinked wide, watery eyes, shaking, "Aye, Fergus, aye. Ye…ye're right."

He gave her a tired smirk, "I know, lass. Try to sleep."

She crawled back in bed, still crying when he wrapped himself around her as if he could shield her from her own pain.

They did not sleep that night.

They did not sleep for many nights.

* * *

**Berk**

Hiccup admired the fearlessness his mother showed as she whipped into Berk on her Stormcutter. She threw her cloak and helmet on to the table of her and his once home before tromping up the stairs without a word to the man who appeared to be as starstruck and awed by her arrival as he was on their wedding day. He was fiddling with his own helmet, the one that matched Hiccup's and was originally made from her breast plate smelted down and remade to keep both of her boys safe.

Hiccup patted his dad on the shoulder before following his mother upstairs, leading her to one of the guest rooms. Merida, thankfully, was no worse for wear than when he left her but was awake now, trying to crawl past her anxious dragon who was successfully keeping her in bed. His mother, taken aback at the sight of a female Nightfury, shook her silly child who had left out one of the most important parts of the entire story. Hiccup apologized as they both helped to ease the princess back into bed and fetched water and cloths for what Hiccup hoped would ease her pain and assure her health.

Valka sighed when she unwrapped the wound, pleased.

"The skin has not turned black, so we're in better shape than I thought. But she will need more antidote, surely," she gave him a glance, "Do ye have some here?"

"Eh," he sighed, "Probably not. But I know who will."

She winced for him, knowing which family he had to ask.

"She's strong and stubborn, son," she glanced at the sweating girl, a brow raised to match her smirk, "Both of them. I see ye have a type, then?"

"And now I'm leaving," he snarked, heading downstairs to go to the Hofferson's.

"Son," Stoick approached, cautious, wary, "Can…can she help her?"

"Yeah, dad," Hiccup sighed, "We need more Nadder antidote. Do you have some?"

He shook his head and Hiccup was able to see just how much effort his father had put into himself. His armor was shining in the firelight of the hearth, his beard and mustache having been combed, trimmed and re-braided. He had even gone so far as to trim his eyebrows and, from this proximity, he was chewing on dragon-nip to freshen his breath after dinner.

"Eh, no, no, son, I don't…" he gave him a pitiful glance, "Yer mother…Valka…"

"Dad," Hiccup sighed, "I don't know what happened between you but she's still mad if that's what you're wondering. But, please," he implored, "Just let her work. I'll help you win her back if you help me keep Merida by my side."

Norns, he felt gross. He was playing both sides against one another to help save himself, but he felt it necessary. He promised to help his mom avoid his father, but now he was promising Stoick to aid him in winning back his wife who is adamant about leaving.

"Aye, son," he shook himself and for the first moment since he'd been home, his father looked like himself, "Of course. A man's wife is the most important thing to him, or it-it should be. Always."

"Yeah, uh, right," Hiccup muttered, slipping out the door and meeting Toothless standing guard by the house. He didn't like being inside much anymore, now that he had grown quite a bit larger over the past couple of years. Hiccup had wondered if he had become a Titan Wing, but wasn't sure about the differences quite yet.

Toothless followed after his rider as they approached the Hofferson home, a knot growing into a boulder at the base of his gut. He was tolerated by the Hofferson's—his position as heir of Berk had made him acceptable to Astrid's father and her mother was a kind woman who found his bumbling to be endearing.

But that was before he broke their daughter's heart and ran off into the wilderness.

Groaning softly, he knocked on the wooden door that bore a wide wreath of fresh herbs. They were a gift, he was sure, from a villager, to inspire healing in the strongest girl in the village.

He heard the heavy, tell-tale footfalls of her father and squared his shoulders before he was being scowled down on. He was still as wide and burly as his own father, his glaring blue eyes sharper than the tip of glaciers.

"Ah, the Haddock boy," he sneered, "Come to injure my daughter further?"

"No, sir, I actually—"

"What, then? Ye want to beg her forgiveness?"

Hiccup sighed, "Astrid makes Deadly Nadder antidote religiously. I need some to save the girl that she nearly killed."

The man lowered himself, eyes bright and dangerous, "The _Völva?"_

Hiccup cursed, lowly, "Yes."

He bared his teeth and Hiccup was prepared to be accosted when a voice from behind him made him pause.

"I knew you'd have to come here, Hiccup," Astrid pressed a heavy bottle into his hand, "This should be more than enough. How is she?"

His throat caught at the sight of her, her head still bandaged. She leaned against the doorframe in equal nonchalance and exhaustion. Two bruises marked under her eyes and across her forehead, peeking out from under the white of the wrap around her skull.

"She'll live, but I had to go find my mom. How are you?"

She shrugged, "I heard in the village she was your betrothed."

He sighed, "Astrid, look, that's not really—"

"I mean, it's not like I care. She's tough and, with that magic, too, I'd keep her around."

"Astrid, that's not how it is," he admitted, eyeing her family that was watching them, "Her home was invaded. I took her with me because we're trying to find out who did it and stop them, stop them from doing it to other places, maybe Berk included. She's not my bride, I lied because the village is on high alert. Hel," he scoffed, "You tried to kill her on first sight because you thought she was causing all of this."

She lowered her eyes, appearing completely unsurprised by his admission, "Yeah…I regret it."

He let out a chuckle, "No one died, I think, honestly, if you talk to Merida she'd not only understand but she'd admire you. Her conviction to her people is just like yours to Berk. She reminds me of you, in a few ways. You should see her shoot."

Astrid let out a little laugh herself, nodding.

"You should rest, Astrid. I've got Stormfly settled in for the night and she's doing great so…just relax."

He turned to go but she stopped him, "You know about the order at the Crone's Port?"

"Yes," he nodded, "I'll be going."

"I will, too."

His mouth was full of complaints, wanting to stop her. Stormfly wasn't ready to be back in the air and neither was she, but Astrid wasn't someone you told things to—she had to figure it out on her own.

"Alright, I'll see you in the sky," he held up the bottle, "Thank you, it means more than you know."

"Hiccup?"

He turned back, seeing her illuminated by the brightness of her home in the night.

"Do you have feelings for her?"

He swallowed, looking at the antidote in his hand.

"Do you really want to know?"

Her smile was sad, but not angry or hurt, "I think there's my answer. Goodnight, Hiccup. I hope she makes it."

He nodded and bid her and her family a good evening before he began thumping back up the hill towards his home, hurrying to get back to Merida.

She had to make it.

His life depended on it.

In more ways than one.

* * *

The girl was pretty in Valka's opinion. She had the look of a Highlander, to be sure, with that red hair and pale, freckled skin. She muttered and mumbled in a tongue that she didn't recognize, but her hazy blue eyes spoke volumes in panic and pain. Valka soothed her like she did Hiccup as an infant, humming and singing and washing away a plethora of dirt and debris that hung along her brow and was stuck in her voluminous curls. She was growing so hot she worried that they may need to dip her into the ocean to cool her body down before her brain roasted like a bird spinning on a spit.

Valka wondered about the female Nightfury that had left once she and Hiccup had begun to work on the lass. She must have sensed they meant to help rather than harm and left them to it, her yellow eyes seeming to pierce her like an arrow. She was only one of six or seven that Valka had seen in her entire time flying, but she was a perfect specimen. She had managed to keep all of her fins and had no damage to her hide or wings, barely any scarring and the wounds she had received were recent. It was equal parts stunning and suspicious. Dragons were cruel to each other, surely, but Nightfuries were especially violent against their own kind and would have massive mate disputes, especially since the population had dwindled. More so, they were great treasures to be hunted and their pelts were fire and electricity resistant and went for a massive amount of money on dark markets. Her son had not mentioned where this dragon had come from, which was also suspicious—where was it hiding that kept it so immaculate?

Hiccup burst in, sweating and panting, ripping her from her morbid thoughts. She took his offered bottle and uncorked it with her teeth, pouring some directly into the wound. Merida screamed and Hiccup grabbed her around her shoulders as she writhed, watching in mild horror as the wound sizzled and seemed to fizz in a massive reaction. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she gagged in pain, sitting up against Hiccup's best attempts to keep her restrained.

_"__Mum,"_ she looked at Valka with wide, frightened eyes, tears dripping from her chin, _"I'm so sorry…I did this…to you, to us. I left the castle, I could'nae defend it…"_

Hiccup hushed her softly and Valka asked what she was saying as she rewrapped the bandage around her leg, tightly.

"She thinks you're her mother," he muttered back in their own language, "She's delirious."

"What did she say?"

"She said she was sorry."

Valka, moved her son away and enveloped the young girl in her arms and hushed her, rocking as the girl latched on like a needy Terrible Terror, sputtering and babbling incessantly.

Whatever it was made Hiccup wilt like a flower in a late winter.

"What does she say?"

"It's…it's about her home. The people…she couldn't save, the one's we had to burn. She's naming them and telling her mom-uh, you, that they had to remember them. She keeps apologizing. She keeps saying she tried."

Valka, her head on top of Merida's, began to hum the song that Stoick had sung to her, all through courting her and on their marriage day and when they reunited. She cradled the smaller girl in her arms and sang, softly, in her tongue,

"My dearest one, my darling dear,

Your mighty words astound me,

But I've no need of mighty deeds,

When I feel your arms around me."

Hiccup, smiling worriedly, sang the part of his father, quietly, off-key and rather pitchy, his eyes fell to the girl, settling back into the pillows with overwhelming exhaustion. She reached out and took her son's hand, humming and singing together in the quiet of the dark night.

He gripped her hand back in thanks before reaching out to take the girls and Valka felt her throat twist, knowing that she was losing her son to something bigger and greater than herself.

"To love and kiss, to sweetly hold," she began, glad to hear him join her for the final verse,

"For the dancing and the dreaming,

through all life's sorrows and delights,

I'll keep your laugh inside me.

I'll swim and sail on savage seas,

With ne'er a fear of drowning.

And gladly ride the waves of life,

If you would marry me…"

He looked up at her, her own green looking back at her and she stood, hiding her sniffles in her sleeve and stoking the fire. She had thought that she would have to part with him later, perhaps with Astrid. She didn't expect him to find someone out there in that world, someone that would accept him and he would want to have next to him for the rest of his days. That was shallow and foolish of her and she couldn't help but shake her head at her own selfishness.

Hiccup may not know it yet, but there was far more between them than a curse and their dragons.

"We need the fever to break," she murmured, "I'll keep first watch."

"No, I…I can't sleep anyway. Why don't you and Cloudjumper shack up in the dome? You'll be comfortable and out of the way there."

She laughed at him, "As if I'd leave her all to ye, son. She's still got a ways to go."

His brow lowered, "Yeah…I know."

"Ye worry for yerself or for her?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "Can't it be both?"

"Yes," she looked at him, "But one always wins out in yer heart and ye know it. So, tell yer mother all about this grand adventure and no skipping parts this time. I know there is more to this than what ye're telling me."

Hiccup groaned and fell back into the chair, his arm coming to cover his eyes as if he could block out his grinning parent.

"I barely know where to start."

"The beginning is usually the best," she smiled at his snort of annoyance.

So he began and kept talking late into the night, until dawn creeped in through the windows.

Halfway through the morning, Merida's fever broke and Hiccup felt that he could finally breathe again. Valka went to prepare food, which Hiccup dreaded his friend to have to consume, while he helped her sit up and drink as much water as she could before bursting. She groaned at her stickiness and the stiffness of her leg, but he couldn't stop himself from sitting on the side of the bed and teasingly pulling out a few stray leaves from her curls. Her punch was much weaker than usual but he was glad to see her laughing again.

"Ye know...all I wanted was a bath," she rolled her eyes, "Can'nae have anythin' can I?"

He laughed, "No, peace and quiet doesn't really exist on Berk."

There was a beat, a pause, his eyes falling to her wrapped leg.

"Can you heal it?"

She nodded, "Once I'm stronger, aye. I'll need herbs though, it's deep and it'll take a lot of my power."

"I can get you anything you need, just name it and it's yours," he interlaced his fingers with hers, "Do you remember what happened?"

She growled, fingers tensing against hand, "Some crazy bitch attacked me in the woods! I did nothin' to her, Hiccup, I swear unto ye, she just—!"

"I know. It was Astrid, she thought you were somehow using your magic to manipulate the dragons. She thought you were the root of all of this and she thought to protect the village."

He believed Merida would understand this. She, of all people, who was willing to risk so much to save her people.

"Why would _I_ be the one attacking all of ye?"

He was wrong.

"I mean, I have a Nightfury!"

"Yes, but you're a stranger," he tried to explain.

"So, that's how yer people treat strangers, then? I see!"

"In times of war, yes," he was still smiling, despite her annoyance.

"Do me a favor," he stopped her mid-rant, "Trust me on this. Astrid represents the village, just like you represent DunBroch. Try to get along with her, she feels guilty about what happened."

Her cheeks flushed as red as her hair, "As she should! She almost killed us _all_, Hiccup!"

"But she didn't know," he shrugged, "And we're all alive. So, we'll thank Odin for that."

She glowered at him, eyes a darkened teal that made her look dangerous.

"Fine," she spat, "I'll hear her out."

"Not for a few days yet," he advised, "Strict bed rest for you, princess. Saorsa will be here to keep watch."

She gasped when he opened the door and her dragon bounded in, immediately flopping her head into her lap for scratches. Toothless nudged his own head in but his shoulders were just a tad too large to get through the doorway and he whined until Hiccup gave him his own desired attention.

"I want'a fly," she looked up at him pleadingly, her lower lip pouting a bit.

_'__Stay strong, Haddock,' _he encouraged himself.

"Tonight," he assured her, "Rest first."

That was_ not_ what he meant to say, banging his head on the doorframe by accident on the way out. Valka had left to get food for them and he introduced them when she returned, allowing his mother to peel the coverlet and her bandages back to assess the situation. The redness and swelling was down, thank Thor, and Valka proclaimed her to be healing nicely.

"And after so short a time," she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "Like magic."

Merida flushed and shot a dangerous look at Hiccup after he had translated it for her, who laughed, "Trust me, as if I could keep much from my mom."

_"__Yer mother!"_

Merida promptly attempted to fix her mess of curls and cover her body with the blanket, making Valka laugh at her behavior. She had assumed that the matriarch of Hiccup's family would be like her own—strict, strong and with an air of authority that was nearly impenetrable. But this woman was not like her own mother, surrounded with an air of finality and grace that seemed to be a part of her very blood, but was calm and collected with a sense of familiarity that made her feel at ease. Valka wore pants and a tight shirt that showed off her lithe and athletic nature, her son built much like her, and appeared closer to a pirate than a queen.

"Oh, ye poor dear," Valka smiled at her with a face very much like her son, who continued to translate between them, "I bet ye'd like nothin' more than a long soak, am I right?"

"Please," she groaned.

"Eat first," she handed her a bowl of something and Hiccup waved, frantically behind his mother for her not to put a spoonful in her mouth, "I'll get a tub ready."

She walked out and Hiccup took the bowl and tossed it from the window, sighing at the danger that his mother might have killed Merida simply by feeding her. He procured her some apples he had found and she ate them with delight, the only sound was the crunching of her teeth against the crisp yellow flesh.

"I've never seen this kind before," she spoke around a mouthful, "It's so sweet!"

He shrugged, claiming that he had bought them from a vender. When his mother returned, he took his leave and went to find a quiet place with Toothless for a long, well-deserved nap. Merida shot him a concerned glance as she was led, limping, down the hall to a bathing room with his mother guiding her, but he waved and smiled and promised he's see her tonight. They didn't need him to translate between them all day, he was sure they'd get along fine.

But he forgot a very important detail—

The gods hated him.

* * *

Hiccup awoke at sunset, stumbling back into the village in search of food. He was grabbed, unceremoniously by a random villager and whisked back up to his home with sharp commands to "get ready!" He blinked, still half-asleep as he was grabbed by his father in the doorway and handed ceremonial robes that he put on with some confusion. His father draped his shoulders in fur and pinned them with a large crest that held three swords interlocked, apparently that of Grimbeard the Ghastly.

"Dad," he groaned, rubbing his crusted eyes, "What is all this?"

"The village wants to meet the lass," he grumbled and Hiccup saw he was wearing a similar get up, his dark green a compliment to the dark blue his father wore.

"Merida is still weak, dad," Hiccup argued, swatting at his hand that was attempting to comb down his hair.

"She's up and movin' and yer mother has her made up," he stuck his helmet out to him, the one made by his mother's breast plate and the one he had purposefully left on the island. Hiccup took it with only a small groan of annoyance.

"Get it together, son," Stoick snapped, "This is important. We represent the village."

"Dad," Hiccup rolled his eyes, "I haven't represented the village in years. Not since I left."

"The village believes in you, in us. And they'll believe in her, once they see her."

Hiccup was about to begin a massive argument that would have surely driven him off the island if it wasn't for the sound of unsteady footsteps down the stairs. Merida was dressed in a fine garnet colored dress with a heavy golden belt that hung around her hips. She wore her circlet, the representation of her power, across her brow, since he had made her promise not to attempt to sell it on one of the port villages. It was an intricate, braided thing with a heavy green gemstone that sat in the center. His mother was dressed in a lighter blue than his father, heavily decorated with inlaid silver thread along with the cuffs and hem of her dress. She was helping the younger woman down the stairs, keeping her steady, and although she surely understood Merida's curses, her smile was kind.

"Hiccup!" She gave a sigh at seeing a familiar face, "Thank goodness ye're here! Yer mum put me in this _cursed dress!"_

"Merida," he swallowed, thickly, the red of her hair appearing darker against the burgundy of her dress.

At his father's nudge, he offered her his hand and she took it as she managed down the last few stairs.

"You're meeting the village tonight," he told her, lowly, in her language, and gestured to them both, "That's why we look like…_this_."

She groaned in annoyance, looking like she'd stomp her feet if that wouldn't hurt her already injured leg.

"My leg is already burnin' and I'm stuck like this," she snapped as she gestured to her long dress, her accent thicker in her annoyance, "Why could this not wait?"

"That's a long story," he scratched the back of his neck, "We'll go, eat, and I'll get us out of there before you get too tired."

She whipped her clean, gleaming hair over her shoulder and scoffed, "I'll be fine. I was doing this long before ye came around, don'ye know."

He chuckled, bowing lowly to her and taking her hand in a gesture to her status.

"May I escort you to the Great Hall, Milady?"

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes and yanked him up with ease, "Don't even, boy-o. Let's go ahead and get this over and done with. Ye still owe me a night ride, remember?"

"You might be too tired…"

"Shut it," she snapped, locking arms with him as they both went towards the door, a smile on her face, "I've been cooped up too long as is—If ye think I won't beat it out of ye, ye're wrong!"

His parents fell behind him as they both walked down the hill, heading towards the massive hall where everyone had already been collecting to get a glimpse of the girl who had won over the wayward Hooligan heir. Hiccup swallowed, hearing the whispers long before he saw the long stretching shadows made by the bright braziers and blazing hearth.

Watching her, Hiccup was surprised at himself. There were times, when she was raving and maddened like a loose dragon, that he forgot just what she was. Here, in the bright glowing flames of the torches and the warmth pooling in the Great Hall, she was all regality and poise, her gait steady despite her injury. He held their hands aloft and treated her like the queen she would be and she smiled and bowed to all the villagers that tipped their heads in respect to her.

"I thought ye said they'd not trust an outsider," she murmured, her smile never dropping.

"Yeah, heh, odd how they are so welcoming, isn't it?" He let out an awkward, stilted chuckle that made her raise her brow in confusion but she curtsied at the head table before taking her place to his left, not understanding just what her position meant.

Hiccup thanked the gods she didn't have the power or time to spell herself into knowing their language as his father rose and gave a speech to a baffled crowd that seemed to wonder how Hiccup the Horrendous had managed to nab himself not only Astrid for a brief period, but also another woman of position and pedigree.

She gleamed, Hiccup thought, admiring her. Her skin was clean and clear, highlighting her freckles that speckled her face. Her hair seemed to dance brighter than a flame and her lips were a sunset pink. The difference from her now and just this morning was astounding, indeed her ability to heal seemed somehow by sheer will alone.

"My son," his hand fell heavy on Hiccup's shoulder, "Has returned! And he brings with him this lovely creature, Merida of the Highlands!"

A great cheer rose up and, seeing Stoick motion to her, Merida smiled and nodded to the people who were admiring her.

"She has agreed to be his bride and stand by him to rule over Berk. She will dedicate herself to this land, to our people, to us and will aid us with the power of her Nightfury to beat the terror that continues to plague our shores!"

Another cheer rose and Hiccup began to feel himself sweating under the gaze of those around him. He hated this attention, sitting up above everyone else, feeling their sharp eyes staring into him, all of their expectations heaped on his shoulders. He felt the room begin to expand and contract and turn at odd angles, his breathing coming unsteadily in short pants. He wanted to stand, to run, to get away from all the pale gazes that he knew—all the insults hurled at him, all the fists upon his small body, all the hatred he sustained still haunted him.

He gasped when a hand took his and he looked to see Merida, brows lowered in concern, expression open and understanding.

"They're not here," she murmured, "It's ye and me, alone. Ignore them."

She had been in the same situation after the incident with her mother. She used to not care about the gaze of the people, completely unconcerned with them and their opinions—it wasn't until the four clans became aware of just how selfish she was, how unfit she was to lead them did she feel the weight of their scorn and disapproval of Fergus' first born. Although the people cheered for Hiccup or whatever the chief was saying, it was obvious that there were people in the crowd that cared little for the boy, the blonde haired girl that nearly killed her in the woods included. Merida didn't understand this, it made no sense to her—was he not here to save them, had he not saved them before?

Dinner was a tense affair, but Merida's fingers remained locked with his even if it meant her eating with her less dominant hand. Villagers came up during the meal and offered her gifts and she smiled and thanked them in Gaelic, which Hiccup translated for them. She was all elegance and finery, her serene air felt like someone else was by his side, someone else had taken over Merida's flesh and was conducting her movements, a puppeteer in the shadows of the rafters of the Great Hall.

It was equal parts horrifying and unnerving. He felt like she wasn't herself, her calm countenance a charade, a facade that didn't fit her. Although she was beautiful, charming, he much preferred her violence, her fury. Where was her rage, her fire? Even her hair seemed less brilliant, less free, hooked around the circle that sat across her smooth brow.

He wanted the Valkyrie, the _Völva, _the dragon.

Not the _princess. _

His mother looked uncomfortable, saying little to a very pushy Stoick. Hiccup sighed into his food and Merida's fingers flexed against his, his own responding in kind.

She was given a lovely necklace of a roughly hewn green stone which was supposed to bring good luck to the wearer. She was given baskets of sweet apples, which she was delighted with, along with quite a few bits of bread. Everyone came with blessings of a happy and fruitful marriage, which Hiccup decidedly did not translate for the redhead. Astrid came up for the Hofferson family and bowed, deeply, stiff as a board.

Merida's fingers nearly crushed his own but her face never wavered from the stoic, cool smile she adopted once they entered the hall.

"Merida," Astrid rose her chin, all stubborn elegance that he adored, "I come bearing a gift from my family."

Hiccup translated in her ear and she raised her palm out, expectant.

Astrid's jaw jumped with pressure and Hiccup sighed through his nose.

"The spike that nearly took your life," she placed her Nadder's deadly projectile in Merida's open palm, "But failed."

It was meant respectful, a testament to her strength, but Merida's nostrils flared in rage as her fingers grabbed it as if she would impale Astrid with it, all serenity disappearing in a moment. Just when he thought he'd have to break up another brawl, she smiled and pulled it close, the hair on the back of his neck raising at her cool eyes. Hiccup translated for her what Astrid had said, attempting to quell that fire but finding himself silently happy to see that it was still there under all that false grace.

"Thank ye," she bowed her head to the girl, but kept the implement in her hand, gripping it so tight her knuckles were whitening.

"It was a sign of respect, Merida," Hiccup hissed, "I promise you, it's just not how you see it."

"Hiccup," she turned her dead, cold smile to him, "My blood is still on it."

He looked down on it, seeing that there was, indeed, copper stains that seemed to have soaked into the bone-like material. He swallowed, nodding, reaching to take it from her grip and she yanked it away fiercely, shoulders shaking.

"It didn't kill you, that's the point," he whispered, wary of the stares they were attracting, "Give it to me, alright?"

"I should shove it through her chest," she growled, eyes glazed.

Her hand in his began to glow and he took the weapon from her grip with a swift yank, sighing once it was from her. His mother was looking at him, mouthing questions he didn't have the time or patience to answer and he whispered assurances to Merida about flying and that all would be better once they were in the air.

She nodded, stiffly.

"Once last gift," Stoick stood, smiling down at her, "For my soon to be daughter-in-law."

Hiccup swallowed and muttered that she was getting something from his father.

Apparently, Merida liked his dad. He reminded her of Fergus, at least in size and his dedication to his wife. She did not understand the circumstances of the situation nor what was said between them, but the way he doted and followed the woman around, muttering quietly and bringing her different things, flowers, treasures, all throughout the day made her feel quite bad for him. It was obvious he had done something quite unforgivable, because the woman gave him few if any responses in a tone that insinuated a simmering rage that reminded Merida very much of her own mother.

Stoick presented Merida with a helmet, one similar to the one Hiccup was sporting but it had utilized ram horns. They gleamed a healthy brown, black rings that had been polished before being fitted to the bright metal helm. It was a symbol, a gift that held more weight than a sword—she wouldn't be a princess under that, but a chieftess.

She took it in her hands, her grip leaving his and making his throat double-clench in fright. She ran her fingers over the twisting horns, her eyes searching his fathers for awhile before she placed it on her lap and then, hesitantly, took her circlet from her brow and stared at it for an equal amount of time. Hiccup felt as though the entire hall was silent, no one daring to breathe as she put her crown on the table and the helmet on her head. She smiled at him, thinking it to be the right thing, but he couldn't return the expression, she was unaware of what she was doing, what she was agreeing to.

This made her one of them.

And it was all his fault.

Stoick laughed and the tension in the room broke as the large man picked the girl up from her seat with a squawk of discomfort, wrapping her in his arms.

"Thank ye," he whispered, but Hiccup heard, "For bringing my son home to me."

She smiled and patted his back, unknowing of her actions and his words. Hiccup wanted to yank his hair out, scowling furiously at his father when he put her back in her seat.

"A dance!" He called, unaffected by his son's rage, "Music!"

A few villagers hopped up to entertain the Chief, the plates and tables quickly removed to the back and sides of the hall to allow for everyone to move. Merida grabbed his hand in excitement as the instruments started up loudly with a happy, bouncing tune that had her bobbing in her seat and clapping as villagers quickly began spinning and whipping around the room with shouts and clamors of joy.

Hiccup, to keep from yelling at his father, put her gifts and crown behind the long table. His mother shot him a concerned glance and he shook his head that it wasn't the time. He'd help the village and then he'd leave, he swore to himself—this wasn't his fate, he was not aligning himself with Berk and neither was Merida. He would take her home and present his head to her father before he allowed her to be swallowed by this miserable island.

"Hiccup, can we dance? Can we?" She bounced in her chair like an excited toddler and he felt his expression relax, just a bit, at her childishness.

He took his seat beside her again, "What happened to your leg hurting?"

"Oh, come on," she laughed, "I'm stronger than I look! I feel good, Hiccup, please?"

He raised a brow, "You've got a hole in your thigh and I'm quite literally all left foot. We'd make fools of ourselves."

"So?" She stood, only a bit unsteady, "That's the point of dancin'!"

He allowed her to drag him to the floor where people quickly made room. Merida was a quick study, she had been watching the other dancers move and was an effortless partner, even with her hindrance. He followed as best he could, but she was quite literally dancing circles around him within a few minutes.

When the tune changed, he couldn't stop his sad eyes going to his mother. Her jaw twitched as her and his father's song begun, two of the best singers on the island, Ol' Gunnar and Brunhilde, beginning to sing the gay and happy marriage ballad.

Merida grinned, wondering why she felt she recognized the song, but pushed her unease away when she saw Stoick get down on one knee and present his hand to his wife, asking her for the dance. There was a tense moment before Valka stood and took his offered palm in her own and walked to the floor, crossing their forearms and spinning. Merida quickly copied and began to spin with him, smiling in ignorance. Hiccup sighed at her joy, wanting to explain just what she was doing but couldn't find it in himself to not only ruin her fun but also incriminate himself.

He had put her here, he had endangered her by claiming falsehoods. He needed to come clean to her, but he was not only frightened of her ire but of her revealing them both the village and harming herself and her reputation indefinitely. He absolved his actions with the knowledge that their families would never meet or cross paths, most likely, and even if they did he'd be the one translating and could manage to smooth everything over without much fuss.

They spun clockwise, arms locked, then switched directions—spinning this way and that as 'The Dancing and Dreaming' rang loudly in his ears. She kept a keen eye on his parents, following just seconds behind as he knelt and she leapt over his knee, stumbling a bit with pain before he was back up and they were back to turning one way then the next.

"And gladly ride the waves of life,

If you would marry me!"

He knelt, one hand on his chest and one hand out for her to take. She giggled, face bright and happy and he felt, for the first time that evening, she didn't look like a porcelain doll, but herself. Despite the awkwardness of the evening, despite the danger she was put in, he couldn't help but admire how lovely she looked in her dress, helmet askew from their swinging and trotting across the hall, her eyes bright and wide and so deeply blue. He couldn't look away from her, she was the center of the world at the moment—as if the entire hall was empty and it was just the two of them.

"Son!"

He looked to his parents who were staring, along with the hall, in some shock. He looked down to see that she had begun to bleed and it had slipped down her leg, leaving a trail across the wooden floor like a macabre painting. She followed his gaze and gasped, her hand going to the stain that was on her dress but was so difficult to see due to the color being nearly the same shade as her blood. Hiccup, seeing it pooling around her ivory satin slippers, toes already soaked, stood and whipped her into his arms. Her helmet clamored loudly to the ground and he ignored it as he whisked her away, into the dark night and away from the loud hall.

He left her crown and gifts and everyone else, staring at the would-be Chief and his Chieftess.

* * *

"Oh, ye topsy," her back was to him as she bound her leg while he stood in the doorway, glowering, "Ye worry too much. I just hope I did'nae stain the wood floor."

"There's been more blood on that floor than you can imagine," he spat, "Trust me, it's fine."

She huffed, "Ye aren't seriously mad, are ye? I was having fun, I did'nae feel it!"

_"__How?_ How could you not feel that?!"

She shrugged one shoulder, flipping her hair over it to give him a smirk.

"Were ye worried, boy-o? About a little wound like this?"

He scoffed, "More worried you'd punch Astrid over the table and send the village into chaos."

She snickered, good natured, "I thought about it. I wanted to plunge that spine into her feckin' eye."

"Don't say that," he snapped, still defensive, even after so many years and arguments with the blonde.

She tipped her bright head at him, "Ye still love her?"

He clucked his tongue, "You want to fly tonight or not?"

She turned back away and shrugged, "I can fly with or without ye—do'nae forget that."

He wouldn't.

With another knot, she was re-bandaged and cleaned up. She had put the red dress in a tub to soak out the blood, hoping that she could salvage this one since it was so dark in color. His parents hadn't arrived home yet, which he didn't mind, it was one less issue for him to deal with at the moment. She had put on one of her dark riding dresses and was wiggling to her brown tights to cover her legs and wound, making Hiccup turn away. Apparently the ale was stronger here than she was used to, it made her a little more reckless and it could account for her inability to notice such a serious bleed.

"Let's go," she breezed past him, suddenly a bit cooler and he followed, just as frigid in his pissy mood. He was still in his ceremonial robes but he unclasped the heavy wolf fur from around his shoulders, throwing it across the chair by the fire and following her outside to whistle and summon their dragons. He heard them before he saw them, soaring down to find their respective riders. After greeting nudges and pats, they leapt onto their saddles, Merida not bothering with all the belts due to the fact she didn't intend to shoot her bow this night. They flew into the dark and Hiccup quickly steered them towards the Norns' Teeth, the sharp rocky crags that jutted from the earth like Ymir's monstrous fangs.

It was a good test of their abilities and he loved the rush of barely making it around each peak, getting faster and faster on his dark dragon. Merida kept up with apparent ease, twisting and turning in the saddle, at one point having a whoop of excitement as they twisted in a similar way to dancing, spinning around each stone and each other before her dragon shot straight up into the air and fired three bolts that skittered across low lying clouds and booming loudly with a false promise of an oncoming storm.

Her form against the full moon was breathtaking, even Toothless murmuring appreciatively under him as they both stared, watching the two woman fly as if they had been doing so since birth.

She was a natural talent, for sure.

They landed on top of the tallest peak, laughing in the dark as their dragons rested on lower hanging areas.

She rested her head on her knees, curled up as she stared up at the moon.

He was glad to have her back and he told her so.

"What are ye talking about?" She laughed.

"Tonight, at the hall…you weren't yourself."

"Oh, my _'princess face'_?" She chuckled, "Ye need to work on yer own court expression, boy-o. Ye could see how nervous ye were from a mile off."

He shrugged, "Not looking to take the role of chief, so I'm not too concerned with it."

She hummed, "I saw what ye were talking about in there, before, I mean. They were all…" she shook her head, "Glarin' at ye and making this awful, scrunched up face like they didn't want ye there."

"Because they don't," he explained, "They know I'm not fit for it and I abandoned them. That doesn't bode well for someone expected to take a position of power."

She sighed, "I understand ye…ever since the fiasco with my mum, the Clans look at me the same. They know how selfish I was and how little I thought of the good of the kingdom."

"But you stayed and you keep trying," he looked to her, drowned pale in the moonlight, "That has to count for something, right?"

"And yer here trying to save them from starvation," she responded, "But they are still ungrateful. It is easy to lose the trust of yer people and much harder to regain it afterwards."

He laughed, putting his head in his hand.

They stared up at the stars for awhile in silence.

"Why did ye…" She chewed the inside of her cheek, "Why did Astrid give me the spike?"

"Look," he groaned, "I'm not saying it was the most tactful gift, but think of it like a blade. It can be used as a weapon again, but more that that it-you-ugh, you survived the Deadly Nadder, right? It's a show of your power over the dragon. It's old fashioned and you would get it if you had been stuck here your whole life."

She stuck her nose in the air, "I still don't like it."

"I never said you had to," he shot back, tiredly, "I'm just saying it wasn't an insult to you."

She hummed, brows lowered and he sighed again, "Look, I know you are pissed about it but get over it. Astrid is…like I said before! She and you are the same."

She scoffed, "We are nothin' alike!"

"Oh, really? You want to bet?"

She glared and looked down at the ocean lapping at the monstrous rock formation.

"You're both dedicated to your homes," he ticked each off on his fingers, "You are both fantastic fighters and fliers, you both know who you are and where you are meant to be in this world—"

"That's not true," she spat, drawing his attention to her bright eyes, "Not true, Hiccup. Ye…"

Her blue fell back to the horizon.

"I do'nae know who I am or who I was. Not anymore…"

He followed her gaze to the moon, "What does that mean?"

There was a few beats as she considered her words,

"It means ye have me questioning everything I've ever known."

"Me?"

"Aye," she let out a soft laugh, "Ye."

He let that settle, space seeming to grow from the rock itself to wedge between them.

"What does—I don't—what?"

"I've never felt like one of my own people," she explained, hands gesturing as she turned her knees towards him, "I've never been the princess I needed to be, ye ken? But, _here, now?" _

She shook her head and laughed, bright and clear.

"I feel _fearless. _I feel _brave _for the first time in _years! _That face," she stood and he immediately worried about her falling as she paced in tiny circles, "That face ye saw? The one ye hated? I made that face out of fear. Fear the Clans would reject me, fear that my mother would be disappointed, fear that I'd fail my da. But I'm not afraid anymore.

"I-I used to climb mountains _just like this," _she pointed to her feet, "With my _bare hands. _I could have fallen to my death, but I was always movin' forward, ye ken it? I never dared look down. But, after everything…after Moira and my mum being a _bear _and Mor'Du and my own mistakes coming back to haunt me…I grew scared. Scared to fail. Scared to fall.

"But ye taught me to look upwards again, towards the sky and sun and moon and stars and-and-and…Hiccup," she pulled him to meet her bright eyes, "I'm brave with ye. And I missed this feeling. So much."

He wasn't sure who kissed who, but he was utterly enraptured by her speech. Her hands flexed in his grip and tilted his mouth against her, pleased with the surprised mewl she made when he dipped her, both of them hanging over the edge of the cliff.

"Hiccup," she pulled away with a gasp, "I want a flight suit."

"Done," he kissed along her cheeks and neck and her hands roamed along his back and she sighed when he angled her back to his mouth, pleased with him.

"Oh!" She giggled when he nipped her lower lip and saw just how close they were from tumbling down to their deaths.

The world was at that right angle, his back and throat spasming with panic and time seemed to have stopped. The moon, hung, suspended and the stars would never be brighter than they were tonight. Her skin was pale and freckled, similar yet different to his own, her bright hair appearing like polished bronze under the cool light.

They gasped, simultaneously when their dragons brushed up against them and into the night sky. The pair of humans watched as their reptilian friends seemed to fly in lazy circles around each other before diving and then rising back up to spin again, doing perfect corkscrews in a beautiful aerial dance. Hiccup, excitedly, grasped Merida's hand in his own and laughed, breathless.

"What is happenin'?" She murmured.

"It's…it's a mating dance, I think," he whispered back, awed.

They watched, astounded as they swooped and soared across the stars.

"Does that mean…?"

He chuckled, "We may have baby Nightfuries to look after by Snoggletog."

She sighed, smiling, "What a gift that would be."

* * *

**DunBroch**

Lachlan cursed, kicking a bucket that bounced against the stone walls of DunBroch.

The highest and strongest walls, his perfectly round ass!

There was evidence of bodies slain and cut down, but nothing but charred remains on the outskirts of the walls were found.

And, worst of all, no Merida.

This wasn't his plan! He was supposed to ride in and rescue the princess and gain her hand in marriage! That was the plan! That way, he'd be king of the four clans and the crown would be out of the little brat's hands!

Merida was beautiful, oh, there was no doubt about that. She had come to the castle about a year prior and he was surprised to see how womanly she had become. Her rounded hips always belied how feminine she was under all her bluster, but her face had lost some of its childish roundness and she carried herself in a refined and powerful demeanor. Her hair had been tamed into an elaborate knot with golden pins and for the first time he saw her as a capable queen. She was smart and a great warrior but she was also a _woman. _And women had their place in the world and it was certainly not besting their would-be husband on the battlefield. No, Merida needed to be safe at home, nursing bairns and raising the home and herself to be clean and prepared for when he came home.

Not off hunting Vikings!

He kicked another stray bucket, hearing it clang against a wall.

He didn't feel as though his position was really threatened, as long as the girl was alive. Even tainted by Viking hands, she was still the crown child and would rise when the time came. And he would be lauded for being so kind and understanding as to take the ruined girl as his bride, no one else would dare do so. Well, perhaps Ian, who was obviously smitten with the wee lass, but he posed no great competition against him. The MacGuffin boy was a child when it came to women—he wanted to have Merida as a true wife, he wanted her to love him as much as he loved her. But Merida was never going to be tamed and neither was he, which made them a perfect couple.

He would take her crown and she could live somewhere else on the MacIntosh lands, where she'd be free to do whatever she pleased.

"Lachlan," Seany murmured, stumbling to him, "Did ye find anythin'?"

"There is nothin' to be found," he spat, gesturing to the compound, "The place is empty and no one dares return."

"Aye," Seany nodded, "I think Ian is in Merida's room…"

The other man took off at a dead sprint into the castle, racing upstairs and calling for the boy that dare breach the princess' quarters. The door was carved with an odd symbol, obviously a Viking rune, and the other man was standing, dumbfounded, in the center. Lachlan moved slowly within and found himself staring, just as awe struck.

"Ian…What is this?"

"I-I'm not sure…"

There was a green substance that had obviously come from the cauldron that had been tipped over. It was sticky and smelled sweetly of pine needles and had spread nearly all the way across the floor. It was incredibly eerie and spoke of something old and unknown.

"Do ye…do ye think…Could Merida be mixed up with the _Cailleach_ again?"

"To-to-to…" Ian's accent thickened and he sputtered a few expletives, shaking himself, "To save herself, ye mean?"

"That would explain this," Lachlan gestured to the cauldron that most definitely held a potion, flipping his hair out of his face to get a better look at the substance, "She used the woman once, why not once more?"

"Then should we be lookin' for a damn bear in the woods?"

Lachlan couldn't help the wheezy chuckle to escape him, "At least we'd know which one is her, it'd be bright red, ye ken it?"

Ian did not find the situation funny, not at all. He was glaring at the potion, wondering just what it did. He knelt and reached his fingers out, despite the other boy's warning, dipping his hand in. When nothing happened, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ian," Lachlan murmured, eyes dark in thought, "Ye don't think Merida would get herself too wrapped up with the _Cailleach_? Like…"

"Like what?" He was in his face in a flash, teeth bared and Lachlan raised his hands in defense, "Like what, what do ye mean?"

"Merida is reckless!" Lachlan snapped back, "She's a selfish girl, Ian, do'nae pretend ye don't ken that! What if she thought to sell her soul to that old bag in order to save herself or maybe she thought it would save the castle? What if she's not here because that witch in the woods has her?"

"Then we find the _Cailleach," _Ian snarled, "We find her and we get it out of her. One way or another."

Swallowing, the other boy nodded.

He didn't feel like it was a suggestion, anyway.

* * *

**Chapter nine, complete!**


	11. Chapter Ten: Change

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Change

**Berk**

Merida escaped the worry of Hiccup's parents when they returned, sunrise only an hour or so away as she waved to them and headed upstairs. She went to her bedroom and stripped herself of her clothes, tearing at the bandages of her leg with a bit of panic. Laying eyes on her own flesh, she felt her hands begin to shake.

The wound was closing, it was already more than half healed.

Something was happening to her.

She had felt it in the woods, when Astrid had gotten so close to taking her life. It was unlike anything she had experienced, the weight of her body being pulled down by the paralytic in the Nadder venom, her heart beginning to slow, her mind filling with an odd buzzing that sounded like she had stepped into a beehive. It was a terrifying experience, one of many, surely, but it was the closest anyone had come to actually killing her.

And her magic—and it was _hers_, not Moira's—had reacted in some way.

Something had been broken inside her, something had snapped and been undone.

She knew she had thrown Astrid across the clearing, but she didn't remember that. She knew that she had summoned Hiccup's pack and had taken his antidote, but she didn't remember that. And her body was healing itself without her telling it to and she had never really experienced anything like it.

For the first time since she had begun studying with the old _Cailleach,_ Merida felt like she wasn't in control of whatever was resting inside of her. She had a few talents, to be sure—her mistress said she had a talent with illusions and could hide in plain sight. She was good with her bow and she had made her knife and she could manipulate the energy made by her and Hiccup's dragons. But those orbs she had made and then weaponized against the other girl, how they had burned her flesh and moved with such little command of her mind, she had never done anything like that.

It just…came out of her.

Magic was supposed to be about _focus. _It was about _will power _and _want. _You couldn't just wish haphazardly and hope that whatever you thought of would be fulfilled. It took sincere concentration and skill to be a powerful witch, but her power was doing things on its own and she didn't know how or even how to stop it.

Raising her hand, it flickered once and a blue ball appeared. Thinking about how her heart had raced, how terrified she was, how close she came to dying—it burned, hot and dangerous in her hand. She gasped, half her face alight in the darkness, and thought about making it electric, like lighting, like her Saorsa. Her hair raised with the feeling of it, the energy skittering along her fingertips as she threw it to her other palm, back and forth like she was playing a game with her little brothers. She threw it into the air and it hung, suspended.

"Light," she whispered and it burned like a star, making her raise her arm to cover her eyes as the whole room was illuminated.

A sense of dangerous giddiness filled her chest and she giggled, high pitched, panicked. This wasn't something she was used to and now she had no one to ask about what was happening to her power and her body. Her magic wasn't growing, not that she could tell, it wasn't taking over her body or mind or making her feel mad or unhinged. It was just unleashed—it rushed to her hands and it filled her body and warmed her like no cloak or fire could.

But she didn't have the same grasp on it as she felt she should. Before, she had to call it, had to seek for it inside herself.

Now it was just _there._

_Everywhere._

Opening her hand, the orb sank into her waiting grip and she made a fist, snuffing it out. She perched by the window, opening it and feeling a warm breeze coming in from the sea that made her smile. Even this Northern frozen waste would see some sort of spring, she thought as she curled into herself. The sun was just there, on the horizon, and she felt oddly misplaced.

She didn't want to be home, she didn't want to be here.

She wanted to be _out there._

She wanted to _ride. _

She wanted to _fly. _

She wanted to _chase the wind_ and _touch the sky._

And she felt incredibly guilty about it all. Her family was out there, her brothers were out there, depending on her. She had to stop the raiders from killing more of her people, of the Highlanders. She had been selfish once and it had nearly cost her everything and she was being selfish again, here, with Hiccup.

Even with his promise to aid her in search of the brothers that were terrorizing Scotland and beyond, it wasn't fair of her to give him any hope that she might be able to keep going onward with him. Once it was settled, once it was done, she would have to return to her throne.

Didn't she?

Placing her head against her knees, she stifled a furious groan.

Did she not deserve happiness? Did she not deserve what she wanted, especially if she saved them all? That was Hiccup's point of view and she agreed with him, he had every right to pick up from the place that didn't believe in him, that didn't want him, and fly away and keep to himself and make his own life as it pleased him. And he had the same expectations as she, he merely denied them, because he wasn't suited for the position and he knew it and accepted his shortcomings without any self-loathing.

Why couldn't she do that?

She hated the way she had to put on a performance before the court and the Clans. She hated her fake smiles and calm exterior while she raged silently within. She hated how terrified she was every time she ascended that dais, how her heart stuttered when she took that throne that now sat in splinters in the middle of an empty castle DunBroch.

Why couldn't one of the triplets have her crown?

She didn't want it.

Would it kill them? No!

It was her life!

She wasn't ready and, in fact, she may never be ready.

And was that _wrong?_

Was _she_ wrong?

What all would she be willing to pay for her freedom?

Turning her eyes to the rising sun, Merida sighed. A small herd of about six Gronckles were up and trundling down the side of the beach, picking up rocks to munch on. They were amazing, coughing up molten metal every few steps, ore that would be surely collected in the early sun by the villagers and she watched them until they were out of sight. Putting her cheek against her knee, she watched as the village around her woke up and all sorts of dragons began to appear and she was happy to realize she recognized most of them from Hiccup's book.

"Fate be changed," she whispered, as if that simple spell could undo and remake everything around her, "Fate be changed…"

She knew what she wanted.

She knew what she really, truly desired.

She just had to be brave enough to take it.

* * *

"You're not coming," Hiccup crossed his arms, "And that's final."

"Oh-ho-ho, boy-o," Merida's stance mimicked his, "I do'nae think ye heard me the first time."

"Oh, no, no," he turned and began to saddle Toothless, "I heard you, it's just not happening."

When his saddle flew across the room without a single finger touching it, he turned wide eyes to a glaring Merida.

"Hey!"

"Ye look at me when ye speak to me."

"Fine, princess," he stomped until they were nearly nose to nose, "You are not going. You have a hole in your leg and you've been on the back of Saorsa for less than a month."

"Actually," she flicked his forehead and he sputtered and hissed, rubbing it, "I do'nae remember ye being in charge. I bet if ye asked Stoick, he'd have me go with ye."

"Yeah, well, why don't you ask him? Oh, right, because we've already established that you can't speak our language and, well, should you just up and start speaking it fluently, someone might wonder _how!"_

She fumed, "Ye can'nae stop me, Hiccup."

"Oh, really?"

He hoisted a basket of fish up and spread it across the ground before their two Nightfuries, the sound of of them munching noisily filling the tension between them.

"Toothless," he looked to the green eyes of his beast, "Command Saorsa to stay here."

The Nightfury warbled, concerned. There was obviously something between the two dragons and Hiccup felt _anxiety _and _worry _pound down on him. Toothless would rather have the other dragon close to help not only the humans but to know if she was in danger.

"What are ye talking about, Hiccup? How can yer dragon control and command mine?"

"Because he's an Alpha," he snapped over his shoulder, "He's a king among dragons."

"Wait…wait a moment," she grabbed his arm with a gentleness that made his stomach clench.

"Are ye saying that…if I had wanted to leave before, if I truly was going to fly away, ye'd _make_ us stay with ye?"

"No! What? No! I mean-yeah, okay, sure, when we first met, yeah—!"

"Which is it, Hiccup?" Her fingers clenched around his bicep and he could feel it through his armor, "Yes or no?"

"I-I-I wouldn't," he whispered, "Not now."

"But before?"

"If you took the Nightfury…she'd be gone and-and Toothless would be alone and I haven't—!"

She took a few steps back, lower lip trembling.

"Tell me this isn't all about the dragons, Hiccup."

"No! No, no, Merida," he took her hands but she was pulling away, "Of course not! This-you-me, here, now! That's a whole different thing! In the beginning, in the beginning," he got her by the shoulders to force her to look at him, "Yes, I considered it and, yes, when we first met, Toothless commanded Saorsa to stay. But that's because in the seven years I've been riding dragons and in the twenty-one that I've been seeing them, I've only come across one Nightfury—Toothless."

"So are ye forcing Saorsa to be here or not?"

"I'm not! She's with you, she stays with you, Merida! Toothless stopped...commanding her a long time ago!"

"So if I wanted to go, ye'd let me?"

He sighed, smirking, "Not a chance in Hel would I let you go, not without a fight."

"Ugh," she punched him on the shoulder and he hissed, "Ye disgust me."

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her in the safety of the stable and laid his mouth on hers, upset by her trembling. Not that anyone would dare bother them, seeing as how they believed the two to be on their way to being wed—but Hiccup didn't want anyone to see them together, especially—

"Ah, there ye are, boy-o," Gobber appeared, grinning with his many mismatched teeth, "Ah and I see ye're with yer _bride._"

"Gobber, hi, oh, my gods," he dropped his head into his hands and put a few feet between him and the other girl.

"Ye both ready to ride?"

"She's not coming," Hiccup pointed and Merida stomped her feet.

"I said I'm comin' and I am!" She shouted, even without knowing exactly what Hiccup said.

"Eh, Hiccup," Gobber took him by the shoulders and guided him out of the dragon stables, looking back once to make sure Merida was out of earshot, "I can'nae tell ye what to do, my boy, but I suggest ye bring her."

"Gobber! She's not experienced enough—!"

"I does'nae matter," he shook his head, "'Cause if I can tell ye anything, I can tell ye this—she'll be headed yer way before we're even out of sight of the shore. She's as willed as Astrid is, ye know that."

"Speaking of," Hiccup grumbled, "Did you convince her not to go?"

"'Course not," he chuckled, "Even half-bashed to death the girl is twice the soldier ye'll ever hope to be. Now get suited up, the both of ye and get to the docks!"

Hiccup sighed and told Merida to put on her armor, which she did with a bounce in her step and a grin of victory, sticking her tongue out at him as she fixed her hair. She stocked all her arrows into her revolving quiver and tested its speed with quick flicks of her heel, watching the barrels spin while Hiccup strapped himself into his own Nightfury armor with steady, practiced hands. Both of them, holding onto their helmets, regarded the other with a moment of uncertainty, words piling up like snow on a mountaintop.

"Stay close to me," he commanded, then added, "Please."

"If there is something I can do to help someone, I will'nae hesitate, ye know this," her bright eyes were miles off, "But I'm a distance shot—ye will be the one on the ground should anything go wrong."

She was _fast, _damn her, she whipped herself right before him, looking up at him with a violent glare that looked like she may punch him in the mouth. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and yanked him down to her lips and kissed him with more heat than Monstrous Nightmare flame and he wondered if he would be singed from where her hands rested on his body, if his skin would be black and peeling away from his muscles. She pushed him away with a wet _'smack!' _of her lips against his and he stood, dazed and confused, as she pulled his hair until he was eye level with her.

"Ye listen to me, Haddock," she spat and he wondered if he was truly that dizzy or if her hair was actually sparking like stray embers from a hearth, "Ye die and I will come into the afterlife and beat ye back to life. Do ye hear me?"

She shook him and he nodded, laughing loudly at her ire.

"Are you worried about me, princess?"

"Ye are thin and weak," she scoffed, "Of course I'd worry about ye."

And she swung her leg over her dragon's back and strapped her helmet across her face, her hair once again separated into sections so it wouldn't become a massive knot. She bent and strapped herself in, not looking up when he approached.

"Don't land," he commanded, softly, "You won't be able to unhook yourself safely. Stay in the air, understood?"

"Aw, wee lamb," her voice was muffled but he could still see the crinkle of her eyes through her glass lenses, "Are ye worried about me?"

He sighed through his nose, "Yes."

"Don't," she snapped, "I won't endanger ye and Toothless for nothin' and ye know it."

"I do," he shrugged, "I still worry about you."

She scoffed and turned away and the two females took off out of the oculus in the dome, shooting straight upwards and spinning hypnotically. Toothless knocked his rider to the ground to look up and see Saorsa, hopping and yipping in annoyance for the boy to get up and allow them to join the two.

_'__Fly!' _

It rushed through Hiccup's system and he couldn't deny himself or his dragon the pleasure, jumping onto his back and rocketing upwards so quick he was nearly thrown off. The two dragons swooped in lazy circles around each other, like their dance a few nights prior before they soared close to the harbor. Seven massive ships were filled to the brim with Gronckle Iron and a herd of over fifteen riders, his mother and father included, headed to the Crone's Port. It would be a much faster ride for the dragons, it would be mostly tedious to keep up with the weighted ships being manned with oarsmen that would take most of the day to reach it.

Astrid and Stormfly did not lag, which was expected. She motioned to the riders, his team a lifetime ago, and they created a quick formation before instructing others to cluster into four distinct diamond patterns that would protect the cargo from every side.

"Keep your eyes peeled, no surprises!" She snapped, her hand across her aching ribs.

"You two," her ice blue gaze found the two Nightfuries, "You will be our lookouts. Fly in wide circles, keep an eye out for anything that may look suspicious. This is the biggest order we've ever delivered and there will be no _screw ups, _got it?"

Hiccup relayed the commands in a much kinder tone once Astrid flew away. Merida nodded and took to the clouds, Hiccup hot on her heels.

The early morning turned into a long, late afternoon when they docked without any issues. The dragons, exhausted, flocked onto the roofs of houses at the port and the main masts of all the docked ships. Stormfly barely made it and nearly went crashing into the dirt if it wasn't for Merida's sharp eyes that helped them land. Astrid attempted to speak to her but Merida shrugged and then pointed to her mouth and shook her head before her and her dragon took back off.

Hiccup landed next to Gobber and his father, "Where's the buyer?"

"He'll be here," Gobber smiled, "He's bought from us before and knows we're good for it."

The three men were joined by Valka and Merida who remained on the backs of their dragons, all looking out over the busy island city that bustled, barely perturbed by the dragons, on about the end of the day. Hiccup was struck with a question and turned to Gobber,

"How is this person intending—?"

Hiccup was cut off by the sound of a screech of fury when one of the ships was hit from above with a fireball, unmistakably from a Monstrous Nightmare. Indeed, a random Titan Wing scrambled onto the ship and screamed, spewing fire as all the sailors jumped into the ocean to save themselves from being burned alive.

"On yer dragons!" Stoick screamed, "Now!"

The ships were too heavy, filled with so much metal and when dragons descended from the sky in a hoard unlike anything he had ever seen, even with Viggo. Merida screamed at him but he was thrown back into the war that nearly killed Stoick and his dragon, staring as the city behind him was set aflame by dragons he knew to be untamable and ferocious. Whispering Deaths erupted from the earth to his left and Toothless cawed, wings raised and blue, commanding them to stand down with his Alpha powers.

It did nothing.

Hiccup scrambled up and onto the back of his Nightfury, who took off into the sky to escape the razor-sharp revolving teeth from the dragon.

"Son!"

Gobber was on Grump, staring in horror as every last bit of ore and refined metal they had began to sink into the bottom of the sea.

"They won't listen, something is controlling them, Toothless can't get through."

The city behind him began erupting in horrified screaming as it began to burn, a team already dispatched to pull stranded children and the elderly from the burning buildings, three Thunderdrums from Berk quickly attempting to put out the flames but some of them were lava-based and wouldn't be extinguished until it burnt the wooden structures to the ground. Timberjacks soared overhead with caws of rage, sending a spray of treetops down on the village, crushing multiple people that attempted to run down the hill towards the shore.

The men in the water began to holler for help when a massive whirlpool opened up underneath them, obviously from a Submaripper. Hiccup steered Toothless to the area and shot a bolt into the water, making the dragon surface, jaws wide and devouring anyone or thing too close. Another shot in its wide mouth and its head exploded, shot clean through and it sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

Two shots gone.

A scream from above signaled the other Nightfury and Hiccup watched in amazement as Saorsa shot once on three Monstrous Nightmares, leading them up into the sky where she disappeared into the clouds. Hiccup cursed, intending to follow when one of the massive fire based dragons fell, slack, from the sky with an arrow clean through its eye. Two followed, landing with huge waves into the ocean where they began to sink.

Hiccup dove and began rescuing the oarsmen and sailors from the ocean, not surprised to see that there were more dragons underneath the waves that intended to cause issues and lives. The third plasma shot of his six crashed into the water and scattered four or five Scauldrons, men latching on to Toothless in a panic and his dragon struggled to hoist them all onto the shore where they collapsed and thanked him.

"Enough! Enough bloodshed, my brothers!"

Through the fires came a single boat, three men standing at the helm. The dragons that were attacking suddenly pulled away, hovering in a single line that rested like a stretch of archers ready to fire.

Stoick and SkullCrusher landed, eyes burning with rage and hate. Gobber was close, confusion on his face.

"Ye...?"

"Explain yerselves," Stoick brandished his war hammer, a terrible thing that Hiccup had rarely seen him actually wield.

"Ah, Chief Stoick! What a pleasure it is," A blond man, appearing not much older than Hiccup, maybe nearly thirty in years, approached with an amicable grin, "I am Bjorn, the eldest of my brothers, sons to Olaf the Obsessed."

"Olaf the…"

Stoick seemed to stagger but his expression darkened even further, "Ye seek revenge then, for yer father?"

"Oh, no," Bjorn chuckled, "He lost to you fairly, there is nothing between us so simple as revenge. May I introduce my brothers? This is Hvitserk," he motioned to a darker man, Hiccup's age, with a scraggly dark beard and matching blue-green eyes of Bjorn, "And Ivar."

This boy was younger, perhaps not even twenty. His eyes shone like fat moons, round and luminous and his grin was manic. His long hair was greasy and clung to his shiny face, appearing unkept and disastrous next to his rather put together brothers, nearly white it was so blond. He was as thin and scrawny as Hiccup was, appearing like neither of the other two siblings that he was supposedly connected to.

"You are probably curious about how these dragons are so well behaved," the eldest took a reclined seat on a barrel that was overturned, "You see, my brother has quite the gift. I must say," his chuckle was warm and supple, like honey in mead, "I believe our mother cheated on our father with Loki.

"His blindness," he gestured to his own eyes, "Gives him quite the the sight, however, isn't the right, brother?"

"Oh, yes," his grin grew wider, "I can hear the wings of Nightfuries. One wouldn't have happened to been in the Highlands, would it?"

"Oh, she is here, brother," Bjorn patted the blind man's shoulder, "I saw her with a rider."

Suddenly, the grin dropped and he turned to scan the sky as if he could see.

"I cannot find her, brother…"

"Shh, Ivar," he rubbed his blond hair, like the eldest's, "We shall fetch her. Give me but a moment, yes?"

"I want her now."

He hummed and stepped away from the youngest, smiling still.

"As you can see, your people are surrounded and your shipment is destroyed. Your home has been systematically decimated over the past few weeks and now you have no metal to make more weapons. No more crops to speak of and with no income or trade," he gave a fake, infuriating sigh, "You will die off rather quickly if you do not hand yourselves and your dragons over to us."

"Why are you doing this?!" Hiccup could not contain his rage for another moment.

"Why?" Ivar turned towards him, away from looking for Saorsa and Merida who remained in the clouds, "Why does anyone do anything?"

There was a beat and he grinned, eyes shimmering a warm, fevered pink in the light of the setting sun.

"Because we want to and, more importantly, _we can_."

"There is no point debating with madness, son," Hiccup stared up at his father, who's jaw was jumping in barely repressed fury.

"Ye seem to have us mistaken with another tribe," Stoick raised his bearded chin, "We do not bow to anyone or anything."

Bjorn nodded, shaking his finger at him as if he knew the answer all along.

"Well, then," he sighed, "I do hope you can reach Berk before everyone dies."

"What did ye say?!"

"Ivar can communicate with all his dragons and, unfortunately, your denial means you must be eradicated," he folded his hands like a priest and sighed as if were unavoidable, "So your people are being slaughtered as we speak."

Stoick threw his war hammer and it went sailing across the battlefield with a great cry. His father's aim was perfect, always was and will be until he is old and gray, but the hammer stopped, mid-air before it went hurdling back at his father and himself. They dove out of the way and gasped, Hiccup hauling his stunned father to his feet and getting him back on his dragon before they both got back into the air. Toothless shot at the boat of the brothers, watching it as the fire was deflected as if magicked.

Merida knew what it was and dove from the clouds, her dragon alight with her own magical power, lightning crackling around them as they pulled it down from the heavens like Thor's hammer. Hiccup knew that her eyes were bright blue behind her mask as she dove, her hair like the tail of a shooting star and her dragon fired, hitting the beach and sending all three of the brothers sprawling into the strand.

They rose and began accusing the youngest, who stared upward with a crazed, awed expression.

Ivar grabbed ahold of a low flying Timberjack, one he must have summoned, shooting upwards to dance right in front of Merida, crackling with electric power. Hiccup, breathless, screaming at her over the rumbling of deafening thunder, shot forward, Toothless' shot ricocheting off of an invisible barrier and skating across the ocean and booming into the distance.

_"__Merida!"_

She raised her bow, everything was so bright it was nearly white, a combination of her own magic with her dragons and lightning making it impossible for Hiccup to see anything. She fired and he watched, squinting painfully as it crossed over and raced by the boy's face. He raised his hands to his cheek, bleeding, and _laughed. _

"You are the most magnificent thing this world has created!" He screamed over the fury of her entire body eclipsed in power.

"Be mine!" He screamed, the Timberjack advancing although it was spasming with electric shocks and would surely drop from the sky any moment, "My Nightfury will be yours! I'll give her to you, as a wedding gift! Be my bride!"

Hiccup gasped, every hair on his body standing straight up at the white hot power from Merida.

"I'll give you the world, mounted on a spike!" He cackled, "I can't _see you!_ _I can't see you!_ How? Tell me how, you beautiful creature!"

She drew back another arrow to her cheek, her dragon cawing in rage as they both fired. It shot out as if Thor himself had done it and sent even Hiccup and Toothless backwards, pinning the boy in the shoulder and the Timberjack literally exploded, only the razor-sharp wings and tail remaining as the blind boy began to drop, still laughing. The wings spun, slowly dropping like seeds fluttering from trees.

"I can't see you! I can't see you!" He cackled and Merida flew back into the clouds, which boomed with thunder and shook with lightning, Hiccup blinking to regain his sight, having just looked into the center of a molten star.

The boy hit the ocean and Hiccup shot upwards to find Merida, seeing that the rest of the villagers had either stolen boats to race back to Berk or had begun to fly back a breakneck pace. Toothless, upon reaching the clouds, was hit with electric pulses that raced along his scales and filled him with power, his mouth opening to fire off shots that Hiccup believed would have taken him at least half and hour to regenerate.

Merida appeared to his left, straight and ferocious, voice barely audible over the storm, "What's happened?"

"This was another diversion," he nearly sobbed, screaming, "They're already at Berk, slaughtering the village as we speak!"

She nodded and sat up, lightning racing along both their dragons, summoned from the clouds. She turned glowing eyes to him and nodded, both of them screaming across the sky on the backs of the lightning bred beasts, faster than any other breed known across the Archipelago.

* * *

The village was eviscerated, destroyed. The sentries of Grimbeard the Ghastly cut down at the knees, every building burned to the ground. The island was littered with bodies of humans and dragons alike, cut down and into pieces, reaped like a harvest of souls. There was nothing that could be said as Hiccup and Merida landed, pools of blood filling the hollows in the pathways around Berk, throwing their helmets into the mud. Thunder boomed loudly overhead and rain began to drizzle over the still burning huts and houses, smoke rising upward to join the dark clouds.

Her hand found his shoulder and he sagged, landing on his knees in the gore dripping mud.

This was it.

This was what he had always feared.

Failure.

At his own hands.

The parents of his friends, their grandparents, their siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews.

Dead.

Toothless warbled then called out, screaming for other dragons, demanding they answer with his Alpha abilities. There were distant responses from within the woods, headed upwards towards the mountains. Merida took off at a sprint, leaving Hiccup stuck staring at the ruins of his once home, unable to move. Saorsa and Toothless followed the girl, leaving only the heir of Berk to sit in the horror.

Merida had seen this once, had been through this nightmare before. Her heart pounded in her chest, her jaw clenched as she raced and begged God to have spared some children, some elderly, let some have escaped, just like some had escaped DunBroch. The dragons called and called and each answer had her running deeper and deeper into the hills and mountains, her thighs burning from jumping through the woods at the fastest she could manage. She paused and leaned against a tree, leaning on her knees to catch her breath.

An axe came careening through air and she dropped to her belly, nearly losing her head. She popped up to see a fierce looking woman stomp through the underbrush and stare over her with a blade, she was nearly murdered if it wasn't for Toothless taking the woman over and stopping her. There was some recognition and babbling on both ends, gesturing and muttering nonsense that neither understood. Then the woman led her and the dragons forward and found there was a great group of children, women and elderly that made Merida gasp and sob in relief. She gestured back the way they came, towards the beach, pointing and hopping. There was fear that the invaders and marauders were still there but she attempted, in gestures and noises, that they were gone.

She picked up a little girl who continued crying and let her pull and chew on the hair that had come loose from her updo. She lead the crew down the hills and valleys, the rain pouring down on them now, rinsing away some of the blood and sorrow as the women helped the elder, Gothi, down steep rocks and back towards the village that was no more. The dragons had continued upward towards more calls of their brethren and Merida hurried those that had survived along to assure Hiccup that not all was lost.

Hiccup was still on the beach when more riders appeared, Astrid's Stormfly sailing into the sand and sending her stumbling as her dragon squawked in pain and panic. Her soothing was short lived as she saw what had happened to her village and home, the one she had hoped would choose her as ruler instead of the wayward Haddock. She stumbled next to Hiccup, sobbing openly—it was maybe the second time that he had ever witnessed such a thing, but he could offer her no condolences or comforts.

Fishlegs and Meatlug found them next, which was surprising, seeing how they were usually the last to arrive. Then the twins fell from the clouds on their Barf and Belch and were quickly followed by Snotlout and Hookfang lighting their way through the grim darkness, flames rippling along both dragon and rider's armor that was covered in Monstrous Nightmare gel. The original riders of Berk stood and saw nothing that was once there remained—the village was gone and all they knew with it.

When his father and mother landed, he was not surprised to hear his sire begin to scream in sorrow and loss. His mother covered her mouth with her hands as she observed the men and women she had known be cut down in the night. Gobber was on Grump and villagers began to appear from the rainclouds, landing heavily with cries of despair mixing with the sound of rain hitting the sand. No matter how much horror they had all witnessed in their lives, it was somehow easier to understand when it came from beasts, which they realized later were mindlessly driven by the Red Death. But this was murder and was at the hands of men who acted like monsters.

Years later, he would find it ironic. Raiders, Northmen in the night that came upon the shores and slaughtered men and women and children without thought, they were the ones that destroyed his island. This was the act of his people, his heritage and birthright. This was the truth of so many people, defined by the terror and carnage that Berkians and others in the Viking Confederate had bestowed upon them.

But at the moment, it was only terrible.

When Merida appeared, her armor shining like the Bifrost bridge, it seemed as if she came with the sun. The clouds parted as she trotted out of the woods, villagers they believed to be dead following from the tree-line. Gasps and sighs of relief seemed to spew from the crowd before the riders were moving forward, hands outstretched to greet the loved ones they thought already lost. There were tight embraces and tears flowing as the village celebrated its few survivors. Merida disentangled a few curls to hand over a child to a sobbing woman that rode a Gronckle, both human and dragon nuzzling the dozing little girl who suckled her thumb.

A roar came from the forest and they turned to see Toothless and Saorsa leading a hoard of dragons who had escaped sometime during the onslaught. Toothless' fins shined a brilliant lavender, his command for those to follow manifested physically across his long, dark scales. Deadly Nadders, Zipplebacks, Monstrous Nightmares, Gronckles, Thunderdrums, and even more illusive dragons on the island like the Speed-Stingers, Change-Wings, Timberjacks and even several Skrills followed their Alpha. Some went and smelled their fallen brethren and cried out in loss and pain, filling the air with even more noise. A cacophony of sorrow seemed to rise up from the beach, human and dragon alike.

Merida hauled him to his feet when she reached his side, standing tall to make him taller. It was funny, in a way, how she had fallen apart when DunBroch was attacked. Now, he was the one that was speechless, he was the one that was unable to keep it together at the sight of so much destruction and it was her willpower that kept them both afloat. Her chin was raised, her eyes pale like ice, her posture ramrod straight. She looked stronger than him and his family, stronger than them all. Her fingers found his and flexed twice, hard, her eyes never once leaving the people who mourned.

"I need ye to be strong for me, Hiccup," she murmured, "They'll follow ye."

She bent, licking her thumb and sticking it into the sand before shoving the appendage in her mouth and then ear. She chanted, lowly, hands blue before spitting thickly. He should stop her, his mind raced, he shouldn't let her expose herself to his people—not everyone had seen her in the sky, attracting lightning like Thor's beloved Mjolnir and he could explain away that power with the Nightfury's affinities. Another, smarter part of his brain told him that if she could speak and understand his family and village, his lie would be exposed and she would surely wring his neck in front of everyone present. No one seemed to be paying attention to her anyway until she stepped up onto a fallen tree trunk, yanking him up next to her, his prosthesis squeaking loudly when he nearly slipped from the wet surface.

Merida summoned her mother and every lesson she was taught.

A princess is _strong_ in her convictions, stronger than those she governs.

A princess must _project_ and be heard by everyone around her.

A princess must be the image of _perfection_, of _strength._

A princess must be _brave_ when others are _afraid. _

"I am Merida," she called and the village remnants paused to hear their language from her mouth, believing that she did not know it, "Of Clan DunBroch, firstborn of the Bear King Fergus, princess and heir to the four Clans of the Highlands, defeater of the demon bear Mor'Du and apprentice to Moira the _Völva. _I am sorry for your loss and offer my condolences."

A princess is _compassionate_.

They nodded to her bow, a few moments of silence enveloping everyone.

"Yer friends and families are not the only ones to have been slain by this foe. My home was attacked only a few weeks ago by the same threat and Hiccup and I attempted to discover them before they attacked once again. We were too late and for that, I apologize personally."

A princess is _humble_.

"But this is not the end of ye, just like it was not the end of DunBroch. Ye have suffered and I feel yer losses keenly, as if they were more of my own. But we must not separate ourselves further—it is time that the Vikings and the Scots come together to defend our lands."

A princess _plans_ accordingly.

"I can'nae bring back what ye have lost," she sighed and shook her head, "I can'nae bring back yer homeland. I can'nae regrow yer crops or multiply yer herds. But I can offer ye what I have."

A princess knows her _land_ and her _people._

"I have land," her jaw jumped and she raised her chin, "I have an empty castle and home, fertile soil that needs tilling and sowing. I have lumber and a port which you can trade in. I have a homes that stand empty, in need of villagers that I am…"

A princess must not _instigate war_—

"That I am willing to give ye as a peace offering between our peoples."

—But a princess must be _prepared_ for it.

Eyes, all of them, stared at her from across the entire beach.

Stoick stood and Hiccup felt his throat clench, not knowing what his father would do at the suggestion that they leave their homeland. Grimbeard the Ghastly was Gobber's ancestor and Stoick's great-great grandfather had put tools to earth to grow the village from nothing but a hut on a rock to a bustling village.

"I know it is a lot to ask," Merida offered her hands to him, placating, "But it would save us—all of us. DunBroch will eat and so will ye and we have a better chance of surviving this war should be stand together."

His arm reached out without him thinking, putting it between her and his father, unsure of what the man might do. He had been pushed too much recently—between Valka leaving and the attacks that had dwindled their resources and now the evisceration of the village and the death of so many of his friends and comrades.

Stoick stood, eyes streaming tears. With Merida and Hiccup on the log, they were at eye-level with the Chief. The man removed his helmet, placing it over his chest, and knelt before Merida, taking her hand and pressing it to his wet cheeks.

"Thank ye," his father sobbed, "Thank ye."

She bent and raised him back up, fiercely meeting his gaze.

"Do not thank me yet," she grasped his hands tightly, "There will be trials between our people, languages to be learned and cultures to respect. But I believe in ye and Berk and I believe in DunBroch and my family. If we band together, we will raise ourselves up to be stronger than ever before."

She embraced him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, her feet dangling off the sand. Stoick returned the hug wholeheartedly and Hiccup wondered, briefly, how similar her father appeared to his own, how close they were, their relationship. He put her gently on the earth and turned to the crowd that had collected around them.

Astrid approached from the crowd, her wounds still visible from their fight and Merida schooled herself not to flinch. Their blue eyes met and tension seemed to knot itself tightly between them, unable to be cut with even her axe. Just when he felt the need to say something, clear his throat, _something, _she crossed her arm over her chest and took a knee before Merida. Hiccup felt his mouth fall slack as the remainder of the village followed suit and all fell to their knees before the princess.

Hiccup looked to her, unsure what to expect. Leadership and rule fell heavy across her shoulders, the tension obvious in her neck and back. Her hair was looser but not free, corkscrews sneaking out and fluttering in the ocean breeze around her face, her brow pinched and mouth a firm, thin line. She looked as sorrowful and defeated as the rest of them, sagging under all the weight of her crown that he was beginning to see her loathe. Hiccup wanted to stop her, to beg her to think this through—how would Vikings be taken on her homeland, the same land that was ravaged by others in the Confederacy? They would see no difference between one horned helm to another and even he knew that war would be nearly impossible to avoid.

Stoick took up her hand again before raising it high into the air.

"Hail, Merida! Savior of Berk, defeater of the demon bear Mor'du, firstborn of the Bear King of the Highlands and _Völva!" _

_"__Hail!" _

The village called in response.

Her eyes found his and she nodded to him.

"I need one more favor from ye, Hiccup," she leaned in close, "Long ago, ye said something. Ye told me there was a sacred place here, where ye go for rituals and the like?"

"Uppsala?"

"Aye," she nodded, "I need to get there."

It was sacred land, holy land and it was most definitely not designated for outsiders. The priests and priestesses protected their secrets fiercely.

"Why?"

She took a deep breath and leveled him with a sharp stare, "If there is power there, I need to tap into it. I need to try to speak with Moira."

He blinked, tongue like Gronckle iron in his mouth, "But…she's—?"

"Aye, she's passed on to _Tech Duinn_, which means I must attempt to pass over as well."

"You mean…?"

"I have to die, briefly, aye," she sighed, "And I'll need yer help."

He sighed and pulled her close, despite her slight hesitance to be in front of such a crowd. He nuzzled her neck, her pulse loud in sensitive ears. She was warm in her dark armor, the curves of her body still soft under the dragon-hide. The world had been spinning out of control, like he had just dropped with Toothless into a corkscrew dive that never ended, but her strength slowed his descent.

Merida's chest constricted with his hands on her back, running up and down her shoulders. The scruff of his stubble tickled her neck as she reached around him to hold him back. She felt her eyes tighten at the corners, this terrible event bringing up the same she had experienced, the losses she felt so keenly herself. But he was there, Hiccup was there with her and she could help—she could do more for them than she could for own family and home. She could save them, at least briefly, and maybe save DunBroch as well.

Her mind spun in circles, lazily, dizzily. But his hands were solid, wide and heavy against her back. She knew them so well, already—they're callouses and scars, the bluntness of his nails, the nimbleness of his fingers. She had watched those hands swing a hammer, braid and mold leather, those hands could light a flame in the forge as quickly as they could stoke one in her heart and body.

"For a moment," he begged, choking only slightly, "Can we just enjoy being alive?"

Her fingers flexed against his armor.

"That sounds good," if he noticed how watery her tone was, he didn't mention it.

The sun shone on the beach, the village still smoked and the dead still had to be dealt with. But they would wait for the ships to make it back around sunrise so that all those that had experienced the loss would be able to join in the funeral rites of their fallen brethren.

* * *

**Forest West of the MacIntosh Lands**

Ian tossed another log, roaring in rage. Lachlan and Sean watched with little interest at the larger boy tore his way around the stone circle.

"Ian," Lachlan called, bored at this point—his little tantrum had been going on for more than an hour—and wanting to get back to his castle, "Are ye done, yet?"

"What are we going to do?!" He screamed and the other boys sighed.

"We're going to go back and tell the King and Queen we could'nae find the lass nor her body. She's out probably bein' the wild little monster she always was!"

When he was bodily lifted by the other boy, Lachlan couldn't help his yelp of surprise.

"Ye do _not _talk about the princess in that way."

"Oi! Put me down, ye beast!"

"Apologize!"

He shook the skinnier boy and he gave another shout of disapproval.

"I said, _apologize!"_

"Oh, Christ, fine! I'm sorry, do ye feel better now?!"

He was dropped, crudely, directly onto the ground and he jumped up, hand going to his sword.

"Bad idea," Sean drawled.

He was punched, square across the face before he could even think of drawing his blade. He'd have a black eye for months, he was sure of it, and his teeth rattled like a bag of coins in his mouth. The entire left side of his head ached ferociously as he was thrown to the ground, gasping and unable to get his feet under him.

"I swear unto ye, Lachlan," Ian spat, "If I see ye _near _Merida, I will—!"

"Oh! Oh, is it _Merida _now? 'Cause ye got some wee letters from the lass?"

He slid back to the ground but his laugh was just as jarring and cruel as he wanted it to be.

"She's not going to _choose _ye, ye absolute bloody fool! She's not going to choose _any of us! _Don't ye see?"

He was finally able to stumble upward, his arms akimbo to keep himself upright.

"Do ye not see it?"

"See _what?"_

"The only way _any of us _will be King is if the royal family _chooses us. _The princess gets more pleasure riding her horse than she ever will riding one of us!"

He flinched when Ian raised his fist again, backing away and nearly stumbling back into a tree.

"Ye know it's true! Ye know it is, Ian! We can'nae swoop in and save her because she does'nae _need us to! _She will only marry one of us if DunBroch _requires _something that our family can provide! Like-like how the Dingwall's have access to such a large trading post! Or-or how yer family makes more weapons! Or how my family has the most soldiers! We will be _wed out of necessity! Not _out of _want!" _

Ian paused, deflated.

"She could learn to love me," he murmured, quietly, "She could. I could be good to her. Ye two…ye just _can't."_

Lachlan scoffed, "All this over a _lass?"_

"Over the _princess_," Sean muttered, eyes towards the sky. Whether he was scanning it for dragons or annoyed with the events of the day, Lachlan couldn't tell.

"Ye both can'nae love her, but I can," Ian was adamant, breathing through his nose heavily.

"Oh, for—_who cares?!"_

_"__I do!" _

The large man fought back tears, knowing that it would make his plight even harder.

"I care, Lachlan, that's the point. Ye do'nae. I care about her, I want her to be happy and I know ye can'nae give her a good life like I can. I care because I love her and I know that we could lead as equals, as a pair, like her parents, like mine! I could…give her a good life and I _want _to! What do ye want, Lachlan? What do ye really want? A-a warm body in bed? An heir? I don't want to hurt her, _ye _care about nothin' save yerself!"

The smaller man shrugged, whipping his hair out of his other eye, "So? It does'nae matter what I want, what you want. All that matters is who is the most useful—and then the Queen will force the girl's hand and make her marry one of us."

The two men stood, heaving.

"I would run ye through, ye ken," Ian muttered, "If ye dare hurt her."

Lachlan scoffed, "I'd do whatever I pleased with her, if she becomes mine."

"Ye'd never get the chance," the other boy was advancing in slow, steady steps that made Sean Dingwall hum in concern.

"Ye'd kill me, then, eh?"

"Never," he shook his head, "But I'd make ye wish I did."

Their blue eyes locked, glaring.

"Ye are making a dangerous decision, laddie."

"Do'nae call me 'laddie' and I know what I'm doin'."

MacIntosh scoffed and stalked over to his horse, leaping up onto her back.

"Ye'd run?"

"Aye!" He yelled, his temper flaring—he thought he had managed it long ago—as he ran his mare in a few circles, "I will not fight ye, MacGuffin! I will not ruin this friendship over a girl that may or may not have been taken off by Vikings!"

"Do not say that! Do'nae dare!"

"We won't know until she returns—if she does! And if ye want yer damn chance, well," he shrugged his shoulder, always decorated with woad, "Then we should be at the castle if she makes it."

"She could be out there, right now, suffering—she could be dyin'!"

"But we can'nae find her," Sean pointed out, "We have no more supplies. We have to go back, Ian."

"Ye can go, but I shall stay."

"And accomplish what? Die?"

"I'm a better tracker than ye," Ian snapped at the dark haired boy.

"And Seany is the best out of all of us and he's comin' with me, right, lad?"

He nodded, "Aye."

"Get on yer horse, boy-o."

Ian felt himself growing hot with rage. His ears seemed to flood, as if his ocean was a great tidal wave that would take him over if he wasn't careful.

"Do not," his teeth ground together, making his tongue sour in his mouth, "Tell me what to do."

"Fine," Lachlan spat at his feet, "Sit here and rot in wait of yer precious princess. I'll tell yer da ye've been eaten by wolves."

"Please, Ian," Sean muttered, "Maybe we'll find her on the way back. She knows her family is with the MacIntoshes."

"But what if we don't?"

"Then we'll go out again," Sean stepped toward his old friend, "We'll go lookin' again."

They had grown up together. They were the Laird's kids, their firstborns, always put together due to station and birthright. Merida was around briefly but was quickly ushered away from them once they got a little older.

"Ian," Seany sighed, "We have to go."

The boy stood, eyes drawn up the great stones, one broken from where Mor'Du had been slain by the Queen.

_'__Let her be safe,' _he begged, a tear falling down his rounded cheek, _'Let her be safe. If ye can hear me, protect her until I can be there. Keep her well and good until I can hold up all the worries for her.' _

The two boys called out for him again and he moved towards Lily, sliding into his saddle and driving his horse to follow the others out of the stone circle. He tried, desperately, to keep his head up, to keep from yelling, throwing more cabers, enraged. His throat double clenched, hard, and the leather strap in his hands creaked ominously.

They just had to find her.

She just had to hold on until then.

_'__I'm comin', Merida. Hold on until I get there.' _

The sky broke open, quickly spraying them with a freezing rain that had their backs bending to try to stay warm even as their hands shook and their wool tartans became heavy and wet.

"Just hold on," he murmured, "Just hold on…"

* * *

**Chapter ten, complete.**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Journey

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Journey

**Berk**

The villagers lit fires all along the beach, flaunting the fact that Berk still survived, despite the raid. Merida and Hiccup curled up under the wing of Toothless, Saorsa always sleeping a little ways off but still close enough to help should the need arise. Although the princess had sputtered and flushed at the thought of practically sleeping in the same bedroll together, the exhaustion and nonchalance of the village _(including his parents!) _eventually lead her to share her father's tartan with him under the dark wing and curl up next to the boy.

Under Toothless' outstretched appendage, the night seemed moonless, starless, empty and all consuming, like stepping into the maw of a great god or nameless, faceless monster. When she had first woke up before the sun had risen, she had nearly lashed out in fear, feeling as though she had been perhaps buried, she had already died and she had woken up on the other side of the afterlife. But Hiccup's breathing, slow and quiet, the gentle puffing of it along her forehead, the humidity that had collected in the few short hours that they rested, brought her back to the cool sand under her back and caked in her hair.

Merida wasn't a morning person, never was, but there had been too much loss too soon. She had seen more blood and gore in the last month than she had ever known—or wanted to know. Her ideas of war and martial laws were from dusty books and her mother's dry lecturing, but she had wanted to know it in real life, had begged her father to take her with him many times on campaigns. Now, when _(if) _she ever had the opportunity to see him again, she would not hesitate to sob into his chest and proclaim that he was right and she never should have wanted something so childish as to participate in such a terrible event. Now, the spray of blood and white chunks of bone still flashed behind her eyelids every time she dared to close horror had mirrored the nightmare previously and, despite the bodies being those of Vikings, they still bled the same red as a Scott.

She snuck out from under Toothless' wing, taking the tartan with her, wrapping it around her shoulders as she stared up at the high moon. She toed the strand, watching at it slowly devoured her feet and ankles before receding, each time the tide came in she sank deeper and deeper into the sand. She looked around and saw that some of the fires still burned, one of which was being manned by none other than Gobber the Belch.

She hadn't had much opportunity to speak with him. If she was honest with herself, she was terrified of him and the opinions he might have of her. He had raised Hiccup, she believed him to be more of his father than his own sire, had taught him to raise his sword and defend himself from the village, had even encouraged him to soar across the land and embrace his greatly desired freedom. Besides, he seemed to have stuck fairly close to the Astrid, Hiccup's ex-love, and she found herself fearing that she wasn't quite up to snuff. Oh, she had no doubt that if she and Astrid were stuck in a ring, they could go toe-to-toe, even without her magic, but Merida had to admit that the blonde had an air of fathomless authority and pride that the princess respected.

But Astrid had _bowed _to her.

She made her way over to the man, seeing his wet cheeks, feeling his sorrow as if it were a physical thing she could help him lift and sit into the fire to melt and forge into something dangerous.

"May I sit?"

"Of course, yer Highness," he tipped his head but his gaze remained locked on the dancing flames.

Merida settled into the sand, feeling the heat lick gently at her face. The wind from the sea whipped the fragile flame left and right brutally, but it continued to burn brightly despite the onslaught. She wanted to fill the silence, but every thought seemed to still her mouth, as if she was no better than a fish caught by the cheek on a hook. She chewed on her lip, turning her thoughts in her mind, over and over again, hoping to find something to break this silence into pieces.

"Will ye tell me what Hiccup was like as a child?"

"Ye've spent all this time with him," he muttered, feeding the fire, "He's told ye, I'm sure."

Her smile was tight across her face, "Of course, aye, but…he's so self-deprecatin' and humble. All he ever talks about is his failures and his pain. Certainly there were good times, when-when he was wee and bright eyed and—"

"Off huntin' trolls in the dead of night, had me chasin' him down before Stoick was up and ravin' like a loon about it."

She caught his raised brow, his long mustache dangling over his wry smile. Her own mouth lightened at the sight.

"Trolls? I used to hunt 'em too," she chuckled, "My da says that's why I asked for my first bow."

"Is it, now?"

"Oh, aye," she nodded, "One of his fondest stories."

It was easy between them, easier than she believed it be. He told her about how small Hiccup had been, how tiny and frail as a babe, abandoned by mother and father both. She told him about her constant racing to the woods to be comforted by the rocks and trees. He told her about all of Hiccup's daring journeys and messes that Gobber helped him clean up, the edifices and buildings he burned. Merida guffawed at his reenactment of Hiccup's face when he was being chased by a Monstrous Nightmare, equal parts horror and adrenaline-spiked joy.

"Oh, he loves it, ye know," he broke another batch of twigs against his hook hand, "The rush, the thrill, the fear. It's how he'll live 'til the end of his days."

She caught his sideways glance, gauging her reaction, "Oh, I ken it well. In fact, I believe it may be contagious."

His chuckle was as warm as the crackling flame.

"A Highland princess on the back of a Nightfury? Eh, well," he scratched his chin, "I've heard wilder stories, to be sure."

"I'd fancy hearing all the wilder ones, then," Merida smiled, wrapping herself up tighter in her tartan.

"Oh, I can'nae tell them all right away, ye've got to come back and see me for somethin'."

"I'd reckon I'd always be wanderin' into yer shop, Gobber," she snorted, "Ye are…well, after everything Hiccup told me, I'd know that I could come to ye in search of good advice or help. I wish I had someone like ye back home, well, I did, but not-not for a long time, ye ken it, and I wished I had ye as a wee lass. My da was like ye, really, but if I knew I had someone to—"

"Aye, lass, don't hurt yerself," Gobber chuckled, "I see ye've been with Hiccup a bit too long."

She laughed, feeling her cheeks warm. The sun was beginning to rise and their eyes turned to the horizon, gray and bleak and miserable. They wouldn't see the ships until they were directly on the shore, due to a thick fog that was settling over the ocean and between the rocky outcroppings of the beach.

"Lass," Gobber cleared his throat when she turned her bright eyes to his, "Princess…"

She clasped her hands, feeling the callouses on her fingers stroke her own knuckles.

"Do ye really have land? Enough for all of us?"

Her shoulders relaxed, "Aye. Acres of land that is being left without field hands to take care of it. There will have to be negotiations, surely, but I am acting Queen with my father away and I can make these decisions. We can discuss the distribution later, once ye all are settled and are no longer in fear of yer lives.

"But I must ask ye, truly beg and beseech ye, to wield that anger, that revenge, that fury—be my blade, my army, that will fall down upon those absolute bastards and, once we all have our revenge, the rest will fall into place. I swear unto ye."

His eyes were dark in the dim morning.

"Hiccup does'nae want the dragons to be used for war."

She nodded, "He knows them best. But the dragons have their own dead, their own anger, I feel."

He looked to Grump, snoring in the sand, "Well…some of them."

She snorted lightly.

"Hiccup swore to help when this began. We're stuck together, as ye know."

Hiccup had warned her that he told Gobber everything—there were no secrets between the two men.

"Oh, aye," he rolled his eyes, "And with the whole lie, should we meet yer family, things may get a bit complicated."

"A lie? What lie?"

The man's eyes widened comically, bloodshot and red-rimmed though they were.

"Gobber?"

"I should'nae have said anythin'," he shook his head, "I didn't—uh, it's somethin' ye should talk about with Hiccup, that is."

Her brows lowered, "He's asleep. Why don't ye tell me about what was said before I got the chance to, erm, _acquire _yer language?"

Gobber's eyes noticed her straight posture, her narrowed eyes, her powerful authority. Hiccup said she could be like two women wrapped into one and he could see it here, how she had been so open, so easy going and relaxed and now she appeared someone much older, more sure of herself, less girl and more woman.

"Ye'd best speak to the boy," he felt his own voice sounded far off, "That's what's best."

She appeared to be rather miffed that she was not answered—he assumed not many would dare deny the princess—but nodded resolutely, not holding it against him. Admittedly, Gobber was pleased by this, he wasn't too keen on being on her bad side.

"I believe I'll do just that, thank ye, Gobber," she tipped her head in respect and stood, wrapping herself up tightly, her wild hair whipping furiously around her face and head.

"Lass—eh, princess," he stood, unsteady and she paused, "Go easy on him. He does everything with a good heart."

Her brow lowered again, "I make no promises I can'nae keep. If he had been honest with me to begin with, perhaps I would not have the need to be mad."

Gobber hummed and felt himself smile, despite the momentary ache in his chest. Even when Hiccup had left, he had never thought him gone, but if he should become the king to this lass he would most likely never step foot on the island again. Not that he truly believed that was what was best, but he couldn't deny the thought of him sitting on another throne did not worry him.

Merida tickled Toothless' side and the dragon let out an annoyed grumble, rolling over and taking the cover of his wing with him. Hiccup blinked at the sudden damp morning hitting his skin as he looked up at her, hissing in the dim light. Her eyes were bright, yet dower and furious.

"Merida?"

"What's all this about a lie, then?"

His head fell back into he sand with a groan, "Who told you?"

"Gobber said there was something about it, he did'nae say what it was, he told me to ask ye, so I'm askin'. Talk fast."

He rubbed his palms over his face, brushing off the sand. He had to think, harder than usual at this hour, about how his mouth was moving to make sure that they were speaking her language and not his own.

"I told them you were my bride, or would be soon, anyway," he lifted himself to one arm and sighed, "I should have told you but…you got hurt and then there was never a good time."

Her face flushed red, stuck somewhere between mortification, horror and fury.

"So…ye mean to say, the reason they trust me, the reason they like and respect me is all because of _ye?"_

"No," he stood, "Not like—well, I mean, not like the way you think!"

"And how do I think?"

They were so close their chests nearly touched when they inhaled.

"I—well, you—We, I mean—!"

"Hiccup," she spat, "Do ye_ not think_, lad? What happens when we meet my family? This, just us being so informal, us having spent so much time together, it could spell _war. _War between the Clans and yer family!"

"You don't think I haven't considered that?"

"Obviously not!"

"They were never going to meet until you decided to open your borders!"

She sputtered, "How are ye mad at me for savin' _yer _people?"

"I'm not!"

"Ye are, too!"

"No, I'm mad at you for not-not consulting me! Not running it by me first! You don't think about the consequences!"

_"__I _don't?"

"No, _you _don't!"

"Hiccup," she gasped, incredulous, fists clenching at her sides as her volume rose despite his fervent shushing, "If I had not done so…yer people would be doomed! Ye have no-no-no crops! Nothin' to trade with! No cattle or herds! What would ye have done? My people are scattered and if they did not dare return nearly a week after the raid, they most likely settled elsewhere! I believed in _us_—I believed in _ye!"_

"You don't know what you've done," he shook his finger at her and she barred her teeth, "There'll be fire and sword if it's not set right!"

"I am well aware," she nearly screeched, "But yer homeland is _gone. _Do ye not see that that? I know ye have no desire to ever come back to this place but they can still _live_ if ye'd let them!"

"Merida," he pulled at his hair, "_Vikings _on _Scottish land? _Are you out of your mind?! Either my people will slaughter yours or the other way around!"

"Not if we teach them! Not if we _explain!_"

"Ugh," he knew they were causing a racket, but didn't care about all the eyes they were beginning to attract, "You are acting like a child!"

"And yer actin' like a beast! That's what ye are!"

"Don't you see that I'm trying to help you?"

"No, ye care about yer dragons! Ye don't want them involved and so ye'd rather yer people sit on this doomed shell of an island than have them be used as a weapons!"

"_They are not my people!_"

She sucked in a breath at his tone and his volume.

"If you do this," he swore, "If you take them…you will _doom everyone._"

She gripped him by the collar and shook him, "If we do _nothin'_ we doom them all!"

She shoved him and he stumbled back with a grunt, nearly toppling over into the sand.

"If we leave them here, who will tend the fields of DunBroch? That land can feed half the country in potatoes alone and there is no one there to work it! It is not a matter of you need me or-or the other way 'round! We need each other! Ye-ye fear a war when there isn't a soul in the compound!"

"But your parents could have returned and what will they do when you bring a hoard of Vikings to their land? They'll run you off, you'll-you'll be denounced by your own people! They may even hurt you or Saorsa!"

"We are not _savages, _Hiccup! We would _talk to them!" _

_"__But we are!" _

Her eyes widened, glancing around to see so many of the village staring at them. Were they speaking Gaelic? Or was she speaking to him in the language of his people? She couldn't rightly tell what was coming out of her mouth.

"You are _so naive,"_ he spat, "If you think my people won't slaughter yours if they think they might take what _they believe_ to be theirs. Once they step foot on DunBroch," his voice was controlled, clipped, "You will have lost it to another hoard of Vikings."

"Ye believe yer parents to kill mine, when negotiations could be made? Do ye have so little faith in them?"

"I saw my dad rip a man's spine out through his throat," he stared at the man who was staring worriedly between the two and fought to gesture angrily at him, "I've seen my mom kill men who threatened the dragons without hesitation. If you doubt they aren't capable of killing your family if it means they're survival, you are a fool twice over."

"I've killed," Merida raised her chin, despite how it wobbled, "Am I a monster?"

"No," he muttered, "That's why I don't want you to do this. I don't want you to get involved! Hel, _I _didn't want to get involved! I wanted to stop you, when-when you took off your crown and put on that helmet, when you danced with us, when you made these promises that you cannot keep! I didn't want you look like one of us, to speak like one of us, because if you align with them, your family may not accept you back!

"If our families meet, if our people meet…they will destroy each other. And mine, unfortunately, will win. I have no sway here, anymore, alright? They don't mind me now because I've brought you and offered them a kind of salvation, but when I get in the way of them using the dragons to hurt those that stand in their way, I will not be able to stop them. You think a group of ten dragons is bad? Look at all of the ones we have here on the island! They'll tear that castle down in minutes.

"I am trying to save you," he took her hands in his, rubbing her archery callouses, "I didn't mean for this to happen with that stupid lie, I swear. When Astrid attacked, I thought you were going to die and the world felt so much colder. The people of this village are so stubborn, they'll find a way to survive with the help of the other Viking Confederate members. I'll-I'll still help you get your revenge, but, please…leave with me. Come away from this doomed island."

"Ye want me…" she lowered her eyes and chuckled angrily, "Ye want me to be like ye."

"What?"

"Ye want me to run, to hide away from all the worlds problems, just like ye have. Would ye really condemn yer people to starve?"

He barked out a laugh, "They've stood against dragons and death for generations, they'll stave it off again!"

"No, ye absolute numpty!" Her hands reached, like claws, her frustration apparent, "What will they do with their precious dragons if they start to starve?! They'll just start to raid again! And then they might come to our shores anyway!"

He hadn't really thought of that and he sputtered for a moment.

"Well—!"

"And then they'll kill my people and take my land without any agreements concerning the crops! If we make a deal, if we uphold our bargain, if a bond is struck, we can _save each other_!"

Hiccup stared then, at her, then to his people, swallowing thickly.

"Och," she growled, her hands so close to his face she could rip into it, her blunt nails tearing flesh from bone, "Ye want me to be like ye—but I'd rather _die _than be like _ye!" _

She was pulled away then, hands on her arms by Astrid and Hiccup's mother. She should be embarrassed, humiliated, aghast that she would act this way in front of so many people. Her mother would be appalled and even her father would not find his daughter's willfulness to be funny.

Hiccup's shoulders were occupied by both Gobber and Stoick, a hand on each.

"Leave if it pleases ye!" She kept spitting, "That's all ye know, anyhow! Leavin'! Runnin'! But life catches up, Hiccup! It always catches up!"

They turned her and she felt tears threaten to overtake her, but she kept her gaze firmly away as she was led down the beach away from the men by the two women. They said nothing but she knew by their grip they were displeased. Now wasn't the time to show weakness, now wasn't the time to show the village that there was division.

"Especially since I'm s'posed to be his _bride…_" she muttered angrily to herself.

"What's all this about?" Astrid was the first to crack, which wasn't too surprising. She had less control than Valka and her temper helped very little.

"Ye don't want'a know."

Astrid huffed out a little laugh and Merida couldn't help but admire her. She was gorgeous, truly, and a sharp pang of jealousy hit her where she didn't seem to know how to help sooth it. The roundness of her face and the brightness of her eyes was complimented by her white-blonde hair the color of wheat. She looked like what a queen should look like, refinement and poise.

Her mouth opened to say more when a horn blared through the fog and both the women perked up. Merida knew the ships were close now and Valka called for Snotlout and three other riders who flew on Monstrous Nightmares to go and clear the thick fog on the ocean so that longboats could reach the shore with relative ease.

"Look," Astrid tied her long hair back, "All I have to say is—"

"I know."

"You do?" She cocked her hip.

"It's not the right time to start an argument, there's so much at stake and I shouldn't—"

"Oh, no, no," she chuckled, "I was going to say Hiccup is an idiot who thinks he's always right. Sometimes you just have to make him shut up and see reason."

Merida blinked, "Eh…right. Ye ken that we aren't—?"

"Really engaged? Yeah, well, you fight like it," her smile was somewhat sad but not angry.

"Astrid…Um, ye see…"

"Don't," the blonde shook her head and murmured quietly, "Please, don't say it."

Merida couldn't stop her arms from circling around herself, "If I could have done more for yer people…I would have."

Astrid sighed, "Yeah, well…so would I."

There was a moment between them. Respect, truly, but there was sadness and regret. There was so much blood between them, the sea between their lands could easily have been filled with the bodies of both villages. One of the people between them, despite how it ached in Merida's heart, on the back of his beloved dragon, was Hiccup.

More horns blared and they turned their attention to a shore, clearing from the flames of dragons.

"Time to deal with the dead," Astrid rolled her shoulders, "Come on, then, princess."

Merida closed her eyes, her own people haunting her, their boney hands, charred, reaching up to pull at her tartan, her hair and dress, attempting to drag her down. She moved, despite the horror, feeling as though she was wading through buckets and buckets of gore. Her muscles prematurely ached, knowing the lifting she was going to be doing.

Merida helped the twins, lifting body after body into a boat at the end of the beach. This wasn't the same as piling them all up in a barrow to be burnt, but something reverent to be set out to sea.

She went to a larger boy, hands out to grab the bodies he was struggling with and he barked at her.

"Don't touch them!"

She saw his tears then and folded her hands, trying to ignore how much they itched. Sand and black blood were stuck between them and she sought his sorrowful expression as he poured over what were once, maybe, his family.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "For yer loss."

"Sorry? You're-you're sorry?!"

"I am," she nodded, "I am, truly."

He sniffled, pitifully and wiped his nose, pulling at the braided mustache.

"I'm not sorry," his eyes came to hers, finally, "I'm _mad."_

She nodded, slowly, "Aye…I understand."

"How can you? How can you possibly understand?!"

She looked away from the bloated, swollen corpses, blue in the places they had lain, their faces misshapen and bent at odd angles. It was a horrible sight, but it was something she had witnessed not too long ago.

"My home was invaded, too, ye know."

"And who did you lose?"

"I lost everything," she whispered, "It was my job to protect them and I failed."

He wiped his face again and a sad-eyed Gronckle trundled up the shore to nuzzle his hand and he turned to her pebbled hide and cried. Merida stood and waited until he was done before she bent and took his soiled hand in hers.

"I have want of revenge, myself. Should ye need it, I will help give it to ye."

His grip tightened and he appeared murderous, dangerous. She wouldn't have thought such an expression could be made by the gentle giant, but she had heard of berserkers in her father's stories. She could see the blond flying across the battlefield, his axe cutting down any who dared stand in his way.

"I want revenge, princess," he whispered, "Not land, not money—I want them _to pay!_"

"They will," she swore, "They will. We can make sure of it."

Her gaze fell to his dragon, eyes low and hurting.

"Let me help ye."

He did and they lifted his mother and father into the boat amongst the others. Once the bodies were lined up, shoulder to toes, all across the longboat, they ventured into the woods in search of greenery and flowers. They filled all the nooks and crannies beside knees and between boots with foliage and kindling. Finally, any trinkets or unbroken blades were placed at the prow of the ship in a great heap. Then they stood on the dock as the sun rose, high and cold, above them.

"We've lost so many," Valka sighed, "It seems a waste of an able body."

"It must be done," Stoick and Gobber nodded, looking out among the rabble of about thirty or so men and women and children, "One must volunteer."

"I do," a woman stepped forward, face terribly red and swollen from heartbreak. Merida wasn't sure what exactly what was happening, but jumped when Hiccup came and put his hand on her shoulder.

Stoick nodded and brought the woman forward.

"Do ye wish to take yer fallen brethren to Valhalla, Aslaug?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I will lead them."

Merida barely turned back to murmur, "What is happenin' now?"

Hiccup took a deep breath and sighed through his nose.

"It's tradition, after something like this."

"_What_ is 'tradition'?"

There was some singing in a long, lilting tune that made Merida feel floaty and off-kilter. There were deep prayers to Odin, the redhead staring as they bent their heads to the tuneless chanting. Stoick put sprigs of greenery in the woman's, Aslaug's, hair, her confusion growing.

"Watch," Hiccup murmured, head still bowed, "Watch just what you will have to explain to your people."

The chief took a smaller axe, not the one he used for battle. This was sharper and seemed twice as deadly, despite its size. He slowly, methodically, slit the woman's throat and Merida gaped as she continued to stand, for as long as she could, before she collapsed, blood gushing around the feet of Valka and Stoick.

"May the Valkyries welcome you," Stoick intoned, "And lead you through Odin's great battlefield."

The body was lifted, eyes wide and unseeing as she was put into the boat, limp and slack.

Merida would have doubled over and thrown up into the sea if it wasn't for Hiccup's crushing grip on her shoulder. He leaned forward, his breath hot against the shell of her ear,

"Do you know what you will have brought to your shores?"

There was heaving from men as the pushed the boat full of bodies out into the raging sea.

Stoick continued, "May they sing your names with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you have taken your rightful place at the table of kings."

"Don't show weakness," he continued, quiet, "They'll destroy you for it."

"For great men and women have fallen this day. Warriors, fathers, mothers, friends, daughters, sons, friends and loved ones."

When Stoick approached her she couldn't not stop the shaking in her legs. He handed her a bow and a single arrow, nodding to her. It was lit on fire by a hand she could not find a face to put with and she thanked whatever heathen gods that ruled this land that, even in shock, she could still shoot better than anyone. It hit the center mast and the half-raised sail set flame and began to encompass the ship. More arrows whizzed by like the buzzing and thrumming of a massive beehive, the noise echoing in her ringing ears, igniting the ship and lighting the swollen bodies ablaze.

"A sacrifice is required," he told her, his voice so cold she shivered, "The bodies had been on earth too long—they needed a guide to Valhalla."

She took the smell of salt into her nose and closed her eyes. It was a nightmare, that was it—just a terrible nightmare and she would wake up, safe in her bed at DunBroch. None of this had happened and her mother would snap and snarl at her for sleeping so late and hurry her down for breakfast. She'd shove three bannocks into her mouth and apples into her bag and go riding on Angus so she could be back for lessons before noon and bemoan how boring everything was for hours until she'd sit down with her great big da and hear his same stories about Mor'Du once again.

No more Vikings, no more bloodshed, no more horror.

_'__Please,' _she begged, _'Let this all be a nightmare.'_

She opened her eyes to the gray sea of Berk, Hiccup's breath warm against her ear and his grip crushing. She could smell the iron stench of fresh blood and putrid reek of old blood mixed with salt and smoke.

It was real.

_It was all real._

* * *

**Unnamed Boat**

"Explain to me again, brother, _what happened?"_

He was pacing, eyes bright like a moon on a cloudless night.

"Did you see her, brothers? Tell me, what did she look like?"

"Ivar," Bjorn surged forward and took his youngest sibling by the shirt and shook him, "I swear by Odin's missing eye, I will gut you if you do not explain to us what happened!"

"I couldn't see her, brother!" He laughed, feeling bright and weightless, "I couldn't see her! Not the way I see you! Or the dragons! I could feel her, like a coming storm, full of magic, but I could not set my sights upon her!"

"How is that possible?" Hvisterk spat.

"I don't know! Isn't that astounding?!"

He was slammed into the wall and he gasped, still laughing, albeit breathless.

"How can you not track her?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know," he chanted, "I can't see or feel her. Only hear her and feel her magic upon me…"

He ran his hands over the wound she had made, the arrow having pierced him deeply and the shaft had to be removed. The pain made him gasp and moan sensually and his brother dropped him with a shout of disgust.

"How?"

"She's hiding! I don't know how!"

"That's why you couldn't find your Nightfury? Because she was with it?"

He shrugged at Hvitserk's voice, "Brothers, I told you! I have no clue how it is so! She's—she's a mystery! An anomaly! I can't see her!"

He was grabbed and shaken again, his head bouncing against the wall several times.

"Then how _can you make yourself see her?" _

"I don't know…I've never had someone hide from me before…"

"Then fucking _figure it out!"_

He was thrown across the room and he landed, hard.

His brothers left him, closing the door with a slam. He sat up and leaned against the wall, grinning. She was out there somewhere, his little oddity—somewhere he couldn't find. But he'd learn how to, eventually, she couldn't hide forever.

Her power felt like autumn—the crunch of leaves beneath his feet and the sweet whispers of winter in the wind. She felt like freedom and lightning and she managed to actually harm him quite badly. Lucky for her, she hit the worthless dragon he was riding on with her blast, despite her arrow piercing his shoulder.

She couldn't rightly kill her husband, could she? That wouldn't do. No one else could dare go against him, save her and she was the only one he wanted now. He would happily forgive her transgressions against him, once she apologized. His brothers would surely congratulate them on their marriage and they would produce magical offspring unlike the world has ever seen. Surely her talent stemmed from somewhere in her lineage.

Gods, he couldn't wait to find her again.

She could keep the stupid dragon if she wanted it, he didn't care. The Nightfury was only important because it was powerful, now he had a much more dangerous creature to play with.

He had only met a handful of witches in his life, one being his mother. No one had ever come close to her amount of power, however, and it still tickled the back of his throat.

He wanted her.

Oh, no, that was wrong.

He _needed_ her.

And he knew where to find her now, how to track her. They would go to Berk, well, whatever was left, and track them through the sea and sky until she was on his lap and in his bed.

"Perfect," he murmured, "She'll be perfect…"

* * *

**Berk**

Uppsala was in the Northern part of the island, nestled between two mountains. It was a quick and easy flight, but the dangerous pets of the Berk tribe were not allowed on the sacred site despite their newfound connection. Technically, outsiders were not allowed to venture to such a place either, but Merida and Hiccup were able to impress upon his father that she would not be an outsider soon. Hiccup ignored how white her knuckles were when she grasped the crook of his elbow, her gaze cold and sharp as ice as she looked outwards, past everyone.

"Why do ye feel the need to go, son?"

Hiccup swallowed and met his mother's wide, frenzied expression that warned him against lying. He wasn't very good at it as a child and he hadn't improved terribly much in his adult life—but he had always been creative and what was a lie but a believable story?

"I had a vision," he nodded, meeting his father's gaze and did not back down, "From Odin."

His father raised a bushy brow. Stoick the Vast was like most Vikings, he beseeched the gods when warranted and respected them the rest of the time. But that did not mean that he wasn't skeptical of the event of his son, who had often flouted the hypocrisy of their religion amongst a rather superstitious lot, having had a miraculous visitation from the gods.

"And what did ye see?"

"An eagle," he swallowed, still keeping his father's eyes locked with his own _(they were the color of his mother's but the shape of his father's)_, "I saw an eagle soaring over Berk, Uppsala between the mountains, just peeking out. The eagle had golden feathers but the tips were tinged red when it turned, catching the sun just right."

Merida schooled her features, the sound of her own swallowing loud in her ears.

"Gothi must be consulted," Stoick rumbled and Hiccup nearly groaned aloud, "It would be best if—"

"We lose daylight with each moment," Merida interjected, "T'was a sign to Hiccup and I had dreams also, despite never havin' seen this place. I believe we must go."

The chief hesitated for a moment more before he jerked his bearded chin towards the Northern edge of the isle of Berk, "Go."

They flew halfway before landing at the base of the valley where Uppsala was nestled. It would be just upwards of three hours on foot, maybe longer with Hiccup's prothesis, so they carried water with them. Neither had eaten since yesterday morning and were feeling lethargic and exhausted from all their previous work, bemoaning the need to traipse between mountains for anything.

Merida said nothing to Hiccup in the air, which was something he could mostly ignore. There was so much wind on the backs of their dragons and it filled their ears and head with the constant whizzing of it going by. But when they landed, bidding their dragons to stay close by the area so that they could fly back once all was said and done, she still continued to ignore him.

Hiccup swore he'd wait. He would give her space and time to think—the fight they had on the beach was mostly done and he had yet to really admit that she was correct. He had believed, rather foolishly, that his people would find aid with the Viking Confederate, the Berserkers and the Bog-Burglers. But Merida was right—they were far too stubborn, far too prideful to beg for goods when they could reach out on the backs of their dragons and take them. He knew he should admit his mistake, his defeat, but that would be the third wrong he'd conceded to her just in one day.

Damn his pride.

The trek was more arduous than he believed and soon they were gasping and sweating as they climbed at a steady rate upwards. Hiccup's legs felt like lead weights _(not helping that he actually was technically wearing a lead weight) _and his chest was constricting along with his empty belly. They drank heavily from their water-skeins but kept on for upwards of an hour before Hiccup couldn't stand her silence for another moment.

"Yell at me," he took her arm in his, gasping, halting her breakneck pace, "Please."

She looked at him like she did all those nights ago when they first met—like he was nothing, a rock in her shoe, a bramble on her dress—something to be picked off and tossed back into the dirt.

"Merida," he knew she was just like the dragons and what it took was to be vulnerable before her, prostrate himself before her dangerous claws and bone-melting fire, "Yell, scream, hit me, anything! I'm sorry, I was wrong."

She clicked her tongue and removed his arm, turning back to continue on the path his ancestors had stamped out generations ago. He blocked her path, then, arms out, exposing his soft belly and easy access to his heart.

"I was wrong."

"When have ye been _right,_ ye daffy?"

She cocked her hip and he was pleased that she would at least speak to him.

"Well, I—!"

"No, that was'nae a real question," she rolled her blazing blue eyes at him and he gasped out a laugh, despite her ire, "Ye have been wrong again and again. When will ye realize that this isn't about just_ us _any more? It's about them, too, and my family."

"You're right," he nodded, dropping to his knees before her, "You're right. I thought about what would happen when my people met yours because that's-that's what _is _going to happen! That's the plan! But I didn't think about what would happen if we just left them here to starve and what it would drive them to. You were right, I'm sorry."

Hand out, palm up, eyes closed, neck turned.

Bare your vulnerable spots, lower your defenses, extend the offering of trust and friendship.

That's what it took to soothe a dragon.

Her nostrils flared, "I could forgive ye for all yer idiocy, Hiccup. That is not a crime to me, though it is annoying."

His green eyes fell to the woods before him, the trees strangling the noise from any living thing. The birds did not tweet out pretty songs here or even call warnings to passersby, wolves did not howl as they went hunting stags or does, yaks nor sheep wandered this deep to bleat pitifully. The closeness of the gods smothered out all other livings things, Uppsala an all encompassing presence that forced anything else far away.

"What I can'nae forgive ye for is lyin' to me."

He had offered his trust and friendship and she had taken it—and then he had turned around and skewered her with it. He had doubted her intelligence, her understanding, her power and ability to maneuver a political minefield. She was better equipped for such things than him, yet he felt it necessary to keep such a con from her, doubting that she could continue the charade and fool his family.

"I mean," she snorted and turned her nose up, "Did'ye think I'd run after ye in the hall, Hiccup? Grab ye by the ear like a bairn and wallop ye in front of the crowd?"

"Well," he shrugged, sheepish, "You do have a temper."

She clicked her tongue again and breezed past him, her tone nearly making him shiver, "That I do."

He moved again, stopping her, "Then use it!"

She was growing frustrated and he wondered if, maybe, the best thing to do was rile her. Sometimes the only way to get a dragon out of its nest is to pester it enough to go looking for a fight.

"Hit me! Come on, princess!"

"Och, Hiccup! Enough!"

She tried to evade him and he danced into her view, spinning her around so that she was facing the wrong direction.

She stomped her feet and her face was growing bright red, "I've had just about enough of ye, lad!"

She whirled around and he pulled at her arms, yanking her backward into an awkward embrace. Hearing her growl, he braced himself when she shoved her elbow into his gut and threw him easily over her shoulder and into the dirt.

"Hiccup, I swear to ye—!"

He tripped her, hooking his metal leg behind her knee and she landed with a grunt as they both struggled to get back on their feet, her curses getting louder and more proficient with each moment.

He was bouncing on the balls of his heels, dancing circles around her, "Come on!"

"Enough!"

He was getting close, he could see the blue hazy halo that floated through her curls.

When she advanced again and he grabbed her around the waist, he was not at all surprised to be thrown against a nearby tree, a wafting of apples accompanying her power this close. He saved his head from being hammered against the bark with effort but the wind was knocked out of him nonetheless, but he managed to land into a crouch and rush her as she shrieked, his shoulder blade stabbing into her gut and making her wheeze when he lifted her.

"Put me down, this instant!"

He laughed, gasping, feeling reckless and daring.

"As milady wishes!"

He dropped her ass first into the dirt and he was glad to see that had finally done it.

With a snarl she leapt, tackling him at the waist and they went down in a jumble of limbs and leather and hair. There was pulling and pinching and slapping and one well-aimed punch to the gut that made Hiccup swallow a shout before she was glaring over him, their hips connected as they panted.

"Ye are such an arsehole, Hiccup!"

"Yeah, I am! Is that all you've got?!"

"Och! Ye-ye are so annoying! Ye-ye open yer fuckin' gob and ye think there is no one else that can dare be on par with ye! But ye don't see the whole picture! No one does! No one can!"

"You're absolute right!" He grinned, "Come on!"

"Ye are not always the smartest _person _in the room, ye numpty!"

"Nope!"

"Stop _agreeing with me!"_

He couldn't help his little smile of victory.

She growled and huffed, "Ye don't see me as an equal, Hiccup. Ye don't find me capable. Ye could have told me, ye _know _ye could have but ye didn't."

His smirk fell, "I swear, I just—I just thought it would be safer."

"To lie? So that I would stumble into it?"

"I was hoping you'd never have to know," he shrugged, "You know I-I wanted to take you away as soon as we got there. First, Astrid attacked you and then dad wanted to keep you as his own daughter! And I, well I thought—maybe, you'd want to stay."

She blinked and sat back, her round ass directly on top of him and he swallowed, head swimming from the contact and her punch that made him focus on what he said next.

"Merida," if he was gasping he hoped she couldn't tell, "You'd make an _amazing _Viking. You'd be a fearsome, no, _terrifying_ Shield-Maiden and you'd be a Valkyrie like no other."

She was quiet again and it made him panic.

"My dad would keep you in a heartbeat, he'd try to trap you here just like he tried to cage me in and-and I don't want that for you! You deserve more, whether you decide to go back home or to do something else! You shouldn't—!"

"Hiccup," she murmured, shaking her head, "Shut up."

She bent and kissed him once, twice, before straightening to look down on his shocked face.

"I have no desire to stay. I have no more want to rule. This, all of this," she shook hair from her eyes and looked upward, past the trees to the sky, "It is too much for me. I see that ye were right—the crown is too heavy and it's not worth the cost of my freedom."

"So…?"

"Once those brothers are dead," she stood, offering him a hand and he took it, "I will leave with ye. Let's chart this world, one end to another. Together."

His hands reached up and into her hair and he was kissing her in earnest, dipping her before reaching under her legs and lifting her into his arms. He laughed, breathless, but was hurt to see her sad eyes.

"Truly?" He had to make sure.

"I do'nae want anything more," she put her brow to his, "Than to put this horror behind us."

He put her down, slowly, letting her regain her footing.

"The one boy, the blind one," he muttered, his heart now set on finishing the mission, "He kept saying he couldn't see you. What does that mean?"

Her red brow furrowed, "I did'nae understand him at the time, I didn't know yer language and, even then, the storm was too loud. What was he saying, then?"

Hiccup shrugged one shoulder, "He kept saying he couldn't see you. He's blind. It made no sense."

She rubbed her temples and muttered curses, "I can give no answers until I have some of my own. Let's get to this damnable place."

They finished the journey, sweating, starving, exhausted. A woman, dressed in white and wearing flowers met them at a massive wooden gate. Inside the glen statues of wooden creatures stood tall and proud, roughly carved with harsh geometric features that somehow managed to seem severe and serious rather than comical or cartoonish. One had a hammer and Merida immediately placed him as Thor, and his father stood to the right with one missing eye. But one was a woman, with softer cheeks and chin and her hands held no weapons but were faced out, palms up, both offering and demanding at once.

The priestess did not give them a name nor did she ask for theirs. She took Merida's hand and led her into a small hut where she lit a fire and filled it with herbs that smelled sweet and dangerous, bringing her a kind of tea as well.

There was nothing to be said between them and Merida nodded her thanks as the nameless woman floated away, leaving her within. She drank and inhaled as deeply as she dared, knowing that more than one of the ingredients were most likely poisonous and hoped, beyond hope, that she would be strong enough to pull herself back out before she was truly sucked into the Tech Duinn forever.

The closest description would be that it was like flying. Her stomach dropped to her knees and her throat tightened and it became harder to breathe, her head swimming and spinning like a top. She felt her eyes roll back into her head and she saw the rough dirt floor of the hut before she woke up in the stone circle of DunBroch.

For a moment, Merida was hopeful she had been right before—it was a nightmare and she had just been thrown from Angus' back and passed out for a few hours.

But when she stood, she knew that she was not in the world of the living. She followed the path to the witches cottage, knowing it without needing to think, surprised when she did not find it resting, nestled between the trees like it always was and had been. Instead, four women dressed in different styles huddled around fire, laughing warmly.

A dark haired woman, eyes bright like a grinning cat's, stood, "Merida!"

She approached, slowly, feeling her breath hitch, "M-Moira?"

She did a little curtsy, "Aye, lassie, 'tis me!"

She looked her age, if not a tad bit younger. Her hair was darker than her mother's, as black as Alec's feathers had been, as black as Saorsa's scales, and plaited simply to her mid-back. Merida gaped as she was introduced to other witches in her line, Moira's teacher and her teacher before that and her teacher before that. They bowed to the princess and commented on her skill and power to make it so far with so little trouble. Merida sputtered, reeling, grasping the edges of her mission and turned to the young version of her mentor.

"Moira," Merida knew time was fleeting and she need answers sooner rather than later, "Please—!"

"I know, lass, I know," her head patted hers like it always had, "I'm sorry for leavin' ye so soon. I wish I could have stayed longer. But I saw what was to come and I knew that ye needed my power more than I did. My death brought me home," she looked to her family, "Where I needed to be."

"Moira," Merida grasped her hands, surprised how soft they were, "Moira, there is boy. A witch boy, someone—no, something I have never seen before. He's-he's-he's monstrous! I swear, all of ye—!"

"We know," Moira's teacher, Fenella, nodded, "We have seen him. He is very strong."

"What is he doin' and how do we stop him?"

"He is a terrible creature, my darlin'," Moira sat her on the log with them, "His gift is to seek out beings that he can control. He can worm into their minds and make them act like his puppets."

"Like a compellin'?"

"Not so," Fenella interjected again, "He's no need to use that much effort nor any contact at'all. He can slip in without ye knowing and take over and ye'd never remember who ye were or where ye came from. And those he releases are basically emptied of mind and spirit, but he mainly kills those he consumes."

"How?"

She shrugged, red hair tied back against her head in a bun, "I know not how. 'Tis his gift of magic and, where he could use it to do well, command kings to do good or dragons to be tame, he uses it the wrong way. His brothers, bent on corruption and destruction, do'nae help him much but he is a mad one, to be sure."

"Then-then how do I stop him?!"

"Merida, lass," Moira took her hand, her smooth cheek resting easily against hers as she embraced her tightly, "What did I always say about ye?"

"My-my gifts, ye mean?"

"Aye! What are ye best at?"

She shrugged, "Illusions, ye said!"

"Aye, and I also told ye that ye'd always be able to hide if ye wanted to, yes?"

"Yes, true, but what does that have—?!"

"Play to yer strengths, lass," one of the other girls commented and Merida haltingly tried to grasp her name, "Hide from him, show him what he wants to see, trap his mind with yer powers. If ye let him in and turn the tides, ye can make him a prison he can'nae escape from."

"O-Okay, fine, I can think on that later but, Moira, the bindin' on me and Hiccup. How do I break it?"

"Ye still have'nae figured it out? Geez," she rolled her eyes, "Ye never got any better at solvin' riddles."

"To be fair, Moira, dear," a pale blonde girl piped up, her name and place in line also escaping Merida, "Ye are pretty shite at it!"

There were shared cackles as the dark haired witch chortled in good fun.

"Please," she took her hand, "I do'nae have much time left!"

"Oh, ye'll figure it out when ye need to," she gave her a sharp glance but her gaze, like a wolf's, softened, "Och, lassie…"

They embraced and Merida felt a tugging in her chest, like something was trying to pull her back and away.

"Time to go," Moira released her, "Leave this place."

She hesitated.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "For—!"

"I forced yer hand," she shoved her back up towards the path, "I made ye because I had to! I will see ye again, one day, many moons from now."

Merida took a few steps before she turned back, "Wait! Moira, did ye see me on the throne of DunBroch? In yer visions?"

The hooked nose was all Moira, no matter her age. She bit her lip and shook her head.

"No, my brave lass. But I have one last bit of knowledge—Ye have a storm in ye, so let it _rage._"

Nodding, Merida went back at a full sprint to the safety of the stone circle. Her chest was feeling like it was being crushed with a crank and just when she thought her ribs would creak and shatter, she woke up outside the hut of Uppsala.

Someone held her hair back as she rolled over and retched, the acidic burn of the poisonous tea burning her nose as she coughed. On her hands and knees, tears streamed down her face as she groaned at the roiling of her gut.

"Easy," it was Hiccup _(it was always Hiccup)._

"'M fine!"

"Sure, the vomit on my boot really backs that up."

She wanted to curse him but she was overtaken with more nausea and she groaned again as her head swam.

"Drink," Merida nearly deposited more bile onto the dirt when the priestess offered her more tea, less noxious this time around, but still dangerous. Merida took it and downed the contents without fuss and was glad when it helped steady her legs and gut.

She stood with some help, Hiccup giving her the rest of the water from their journey before she remembered just what led them here and just what she had learned.

"Hiccup," she shot him a tired, weary look, "I know what we have to do."

He nodded, "Let's do it, then."

She raised a brow, "I did'nae tell ye what it is."

"Oh, y'know," he rolled his green eyes back at her, "It's probably something stupid."

"Och, we've already done that."

"Then something kind of crazy," he shrugged.

She leaned her head on his chest and tried to smother her laugh.

"Bein' us, that seems to be the norm."

He only laughed and she couldn't stop herself from joining him, snorting and chortling together until they were leaning on each other to keep themselves standing.

Mad, that's what he was. Mad, pure and simple. But it was a madness that somehow kept working in their favor and she wasn't sure she could go back to a world that wasn't somehow influenced by his crazed, manic nature. If she was returned to DunBroch, despite her words previously, would she laugh at bears and dangerous monsters that came racing in the night? Would she paint her whole body in woad and race across the land firing arrows at Viking intruders?

She only laughed harder, this time at herself.

There's no way she could ever live without him now.

* * *

**Castle Tioram, MacIntosh Lands**

"So," Fergus could feel his wife's frail, thin hand over his own, attempting to keep him calm, "Ye mean to tell me, ye journeyed all the way to DunBroch only to return to me empty handed, with no more information than when ye left?"

The three boys cowered as the King stood, growling under his breath. But it would do no good to take it out on his friends' sons. So he lifted a long table and hefted it clear across the room, the terrible noise so loud that Elinor covered her ears as it shattered into chunks against the stone wall.

"Oi!" MacIntosh looked to his friend, his indigence immediately quelling at the sight of his liege.

"Did," the Queen cleared her throat, "Was there a b-body?"

"There was a barrow, Your Majesty," Lachlan said with a sigh, "It was full of bodies, burned to ash. There was no way to identify anyone."

"Burned?!"

"The savages! The brutes!"

"However," Ian spoke up, timidly, "There was evidence that someone had been in the princess' room recently, Your Majesties."

"As in?" Elinor stood, hopeful, trying to catch her husband's attention while he muttered about why the MacGuffin boy was in her room to begin with.

"Eh," he hesitated, "The closet was open. Mainly emptied."

"Jewelry?"

"I-I know not," he looked away, "But things looked displaced…in a way that suggested familiarity with the area, ye ken?"

At the growl of Fergus, the boy dipped his head in respect. It seems there was more to his nickname as 'The Bear King' than his battle with Mor'Du.

"What in the name of God does that even mean?"

"It means," Lachlan defended his friend, despite the smarting bruise he still bore, "That it wasn't trashed. It wasn't destroyed like the throne room or yer own room."

Elinor halted her husband's pacing with a single gesture.

"Explain."

Lachlan sighed, his knees were aching from having knelt so long. Whipping his black hair from his face he said, quickly, "The bed was unmade but not in pieces. There were still weapons by the hearth. The closet was open like Ian said, aye, but it was not toppled over and pieces strewn about. There was a mark on the door, a runic symbol, though I know not what it may have meant. It may have told the other Vikings to leave the room be."

"But why her room in particular?" That was Laird Dingwall, who was apparently far more shrewd than his lackluster son who sagged _(was he asleep?) _on his knees.

"I can'nae speak for them, m'Laird," Lachlan shrugged.

"Boy! Watch yer mouth to yer betters!"

Sighing and flipping his hair again, Lachlan stared at the floor and bemoaned his knees while his father muttered about worthless sons.

"Rise," Fergus said and they haltingly got to their feet.

"We march to DunBroch at first light."

"My Liege—!"

"I do'nae believe that to be wise, Sire—!"

"Fergus—!"

The Bear King took to the dais and stared down at everyone in the room, including his wife who was holding her chest.

"I have waited, I have been patient. I have believed in others where I should have known my own presence was required. I have been a king because I thought that my own family came before my people and my land. But I am no longer patient, I am no longer willin' to accept others in my stead. And," his face, nearly purple with repressed rage and horror, "Should ye feel that I am no longer worthy of a the title as yer king, I will step down in order to be the father I must be."

"Fergus," Laird MacGuffin stood by his son's side, taking his shoulder in his arm before half-embracing the boy, "We can nary blame a man for taking care of his family. But DunBroch is, at this moment, completely defenseless. The boys said the gates are broken and it's in shambles. We can'nae risk yer life."

"But ye can risk our daughters'?"

The blond man sighed, looking under his heavy brow to the Queen, "Your Highness…"

"Ye dare say to me," her voice was sharp, accentuated by her footfalls, so unlike her as she approached the other man, "Ye dare say to our faces that ye would'nae dare risk our lives, but ye care so little for the life of the future Queen of DunBroch? The woman who, once she is ready, will choose one of yer sons to take as husband and rule as king by her side?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, "She has'nae taken the throne yet, my Lady, nor a husband and I feel it is pertinent to bring up the incident ye yerself was involved in so many years ago—!"

When Elinor's hand reached out, Fergus knew he should try to stop her. But as it solidly connected with the cheek of the Laird, he could't help but grin. He knew Merida had his stubborn nature, his bright anger, but that slow, simmering rage was all his wife and he loved to see it in his daughter as much as he did to see in her.

"She is still the heir! Do'nae _dare _speak of the future queen in such a fashion!"

The man's facial hair twitched and Fergus, for a moment, full of hate and rage and fight, wanted him to dare. Let him snap at his wife, let him raise his voice to his beloved, let him make that fatal mistake—he would not hesitate to take his life right here, in front of his weak-willed son _(big as an ox yet fierce as a lamb is what Merida remarked once). _

"Of course, my Lady Queen."

She nodded, once, firmly, before stomping to take her rightful place by his side.

"Pack!" She spat, "Prepare! We go in search of the princess!"

There were brief nods and bows before they shuffled out and Fergus did not allow himself to curl into himself, he could not dare weep, despite his desire to do so. He would use this fight, this fury, the need for revenge, he'd bury it deep within himself so he could water it, feed it, and let it grow into the monstrous thing that would help him find the demons that dare hurt his babe, his darling girl, and slaughter them.

"My wee lass…" He sighed.

"Do _not!" _

"Wha'—?"

"I want—I want their heads on pikes! I want bloodshed! _I want war!" _

Elinor had never been so violent, so fierce, so angry—her face streamed tears and turned so red he feared it may burst like an overripe cherry.

"Ye'll have it, lass," Fergus swore, his own face tight and hot, "I swear unto ye, lass—Elinor—I'll bring to ye their hearts and heads to burn in front of all the Clans."

Her bright eyes turned to his, dark like wood, "We will find her, Fergus."

"Aye, beloved," he put his hand on her shaking shoulders, "Without a doubt."

* * *

**Berk**

When Merida and Hiccup landed before the remnants of the Berk tribe, Stoick awaited the explanation of their so-proclaimed visions with a scowl. They were able to manage a believable enough lie between them to convince him of the urgency of their leaving the charred ruins of the city as soon as they were physically possible, Merida expressing that the brothers and their armies were a massive threat that would take out more and more peoples until they were able to consume as much of the world as their dragons would gain for them.

It was then that Merida got to see Hiccup as his father did, the potential he held to be such a fantastic chieftain. His quick, barking orders were issued out to the villagers to round up every bit of spare rope and metal they had—they were in great need of harnesses and fast. Then he demanded Toothless to use his Alpha power to summon every dragon for as far as his powers would allow and to continue to call out as long as they were flying. Every water dragon they could tempt or tame in the span of a few hours would be attached to one of the few boats they had and would drag them behind their powerful, aquatic bodies to help the sailors keep up with the riders.

She had seen Toothless like this once before, his powerful body alight with a bright glow as he screamed, mouth ablaze. Dragons erupted from the ocean and the earth and the forest, coming to bow their sharp, angular heads to their Alpha. Saorsa stood next to him, bright eyes surveying the dragons around them with a keen, assessing eye, a generals gaze. She had known they were likely to be mated, as Hiccup had suggested, but she saw them quite clearly in that moment and she couldn't help the tilt of her mouth at the prospect of a half-dozen little Nightfuries running around madly during the winter season.

Hiccup, although his pinched brow and white lips expressed his great displeasure, did not falter. It seemed just another aspect of him she had uncovered and she couldn't help but wonder, idly, if there would ever come a time when she knew every facet of him, like a well-loved gemstone. He always seemed steady, sturdy, and this seemed no different, but it was clear he was unhappy. She stood by his side, offering suggestions and discussing matters with Valka and Stoick, glad to lend her hand when it came to such a monumental occasion.

"We leave at sundown," Hiccup spat, "No one remains on the island—you leave or you die."

Merida knew this was the only way. If someone was captured because they had stayed behind, too attached to the land and its histories to abandon it, they were liable to being tortured into revealing their destination.

"Pack up and move out, we only have a few hours to accomplish much," Stoick commanded and there was a general rush from everyone in different directions to prepare all the villagers that remained to leave their ancestral home for the last time.

They left, carrying extra villagers on the backs of their dragons. Valka and her StormCutter supported another Viking woman, Astrid allowing a little girl on the back of Stormfly. The ships were filled with people and whatever extra supplies still remained on the island and Hiccup extended his map, piecemeal and chaotic as it was, to show everyone the route he intended. It would be fast and dangerous but it would get them to DunBroch with minimal stops on relatively unknown islands that would have enough to supply them and all of the dragons that Toothless would take with them.

If Merida was at all concerned about the sheer amount of dragons they intended to bring, she made no mention of it. There were over three hundred just on Berk and more were flying in from the nearby islands. Hiccup knew that this could damage the land of DunBroch and there would be some issues that he would need to figure out, but he was willing to take the challenge if she was.

"We need to hurry," she told him, seeing the sun sinking below the horizon.

"I know," he took her hand in his and their eyes met.

When he kissed her in front of the entire village, he knew that wherever she dared go, he would follow.

* * *

**Chapter eleven, complete. **


	13. Chapter Twelve: Reunion

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Reunion

**DunBroch**

The trip was slow but successful. Hiccup's plan was working and no one seemed to suspect the massive cloud of dragons that flew above a small Berkian fleet that raced through the oceans, drug by great underwater beasts under the ever-changing moon.

Merida was accepted among the females with ease. Ruffnut and Astrid made her an official _skjaldmaer, _a shield-maiden and presented her with a braided leather circlet that confirmed her position among the women. They decorated shields together and had various competitions amongst them, testing their own skills with their weapons of choice before swapping and admiring each other's ability. Hiccup's suspicions were confirmed to see that she was one of the fiercest fighters he's seen, smeared in mud and blood and equal parts exhilarated and terrifying.

But, despite her ease amongst his people, when Hiccup would retire to a hidden part of whatever island they would rest on for the day, squirreled away from the loud Vikings, she would always seek him out and find him, usually followed by Saorsa. Merida was never surprised to find his shoulders crowded with Terrible Terrors and surrounded by as many different types as she had names for and more. He would point out the ones she had yet seen, showing her how to bare her neck and hand to them before he peeled open the pages of his books, gaining their trust among and knowledge of them. Hiccup was shocked at how she cooed and teased them, as easily accepted amongst them as he was.

He tried to warn her what it would show to the people, his parents especially. If they spent the evenings—well, days, technically—together, they would consider them already married. That kind of relationship, flaunting their privacy and intimacy, claimed that they were as good as expecting. She had shrugged and muttered about how it didn't matter at this point, flashed him a small smile, and went back to playing with a Monstrous Nightmare with a brilliant green hide. That night she pulled him close and draped her tartan over them both before tucking her ringlet covered head into his shoulder with a great sigh of pleasure, their dragons encircling them both, their warm bellies pressed against each's back.

When Scotland stretched, long and dark beneath them, Merida barely recognized the small clusters of clan homes and torch lights that dotted the landscape like stars in the night sky. Quicker than she had expected, DunBroch loomed before them and she was equal parts sickened and relieved to see it.

It was still empty and she was grateful for this, but she knew it would not remain so—they needed to ensure that the compound was protected and the farms were immediately tended to. She strapped iron tillers to Gronckles and helped others bring grain and stores from the castle to get crops in the earth as quickly as possible. It was lucky that most of the potatoes that were in the castle had already begun spouting eyes and were no good for eating so she carved them out with her dagger and showed them all how they must be planted _(thank you, Seany Dingwall, for all your letters about the local flora and fauna)._ They would keep away from the lochs but were free to fish in the ocean, Monstrous Nightmares attached with finely woven nets and sent out with their riders, despite how weary both were. Hiccup and Gobber took up fixing the gate and getting most of the men on repairing the walls while the women farmed.

If the Vikings were anything _(besides barbarous), _Merida saw they were incredibly hardworking and determined. Everyone, male and female, had various talents and skills and had no problems asking to learn more or receive help regarding whatever needed to be done. Women rolled their sleeves and skirts in the warmer Southern weather as they hammered away at ruined huts and houses while men used their war axes to cut down trees to rebuild whatever could not be fixed.

Stoick and Valka looked into the castle and began righting things, despite her protests. The castle was off-limits, the proclaimed, but they largely ignored her and went about straightening tables and speaking about how it would be the Great Hall and what was in the kitchen that could make an evening meal for enough hungry Vikings. While they discussed hunting what they could in the nearby forests, Merida felt her heart stutter and something she hadn't thought about hit her—

—If the Berk tribe took over DunBroch, would her parents be welcomed back as the rightful King and Queen?

The remaining part of the night was a blur as DunBroch was filled with bright braziers and flames as the sun began to stretch overhead. Still, the villagers continued working, despite having been up all night flying and having been sleeping during the day for nearly two weeks as they traveled with as much stealth as they could manage. Merida was able to keep herself awake with gut wrenching anxiety that Berkians would somehow manage to enter into the castle and begin to raid, just as the others had, but Hiccup was able to keep them in the throne room alone, now their proclaimed Great Hall.

Merida nearly fainted when she arrived, exhausted, for dinner. Stoick and Valka were in her father and mother's seats, respectively, and two were placed on Stoick's left, Hiccup occupying the one closest to his sire. She stumbled and nearly fell, wanting to scream and screech and rant—how dare they sit where they did? They were not gone, they were merely vacant, they would come back and the Berk chief and chieftess were supposed to bow down to the King and Queen of DunBroch.

_But would they?_

Hiccup noticed her deer-in-a-dragon's-sight expression, standing and taking her hand as he lead her to the dais.

"Breathe," he commanded her, "It's alright. It's not forever, just for now. We'll talk to them."

"Hiccup," she murmured, "What if they do'nae want to?"

He sighed through his nose, "We'll figure it out, alright? Just eat and we'll find somewhere to sleep after."

She had no appetite and was getting sicker as she watched the mess the Vikings made. Someone had managed to find and slaughter a wild boar and they had gutted it, roasting it in the great fireplace by the tables. The smoke was cloying and it stuck the back her throat, making her head swim. Hiccup watched with increasing worry as she choked on tears, wondering if she had done the right thing.

He took her hand again in his and made her stand, leading her away. There were loud choruses of whistles and he made rude gestures behind him as he led her to the room he had stayed in upstairs what seemed like ages ago. Hers still bore the mark of danger and the potion had dried into a brown, molasses like mass that covered over half the floor. She kicked off her shoes and leggings before she curled in the bed, careless of her hair as she sniffled, her legs long and pale against the linen. Hiccup hesitated only briefly before he sat on the side of the bed, shedding his own furred vest and began to unstrap his leg.

The silence stretched between them, knowing and suppressing them both. Hiccup had been right, she felt regret to allow the Viking into her land without any other Scott to keep it even. The dragons were already taking up the woods and mountains, burrowing into the earth and were sure to cause issues if Toothless did not manage to control them and she had no idea how they'd behave once they departed. There would disputes, surely, and what if they did not maintain their part of the bargain? Merida bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

Hiccup leaned over her, seeing her clenched brow and dry, bloodied lip.

"I know it seems a little like it's too much right now, but we can figure this out."

She opened her eyes, dark and gray like low-lying clouds, "Hiccup…"

He waited.

"I never believed I was…someone who gave up. And, admittedly, that's what I saw ye as. Someone that ran. Someone that was scared. But now, I see, I can honestly say I understand—yer just _exhausted._"

He sighed, getting in bed next to her and staring at the back of her head, the various shades of her ringlets.

"I'm so tired, Hiccup. Of the blood and war and the issues, always coming and never stopping. I do'nae want to _deal _with this anymore."

"I know," he whispered, feeling the many days weigh on him heavily as well.

"I know ye do."

There was quiet and his eyes slid closed. He grunted when she turned and he opened his gaze to see her looking at him.

"I want to leave this place but we'd condemn them to war."

"Yeah," he nodded, "We have to broker peace between them."

"And I can'nae…Hiccup, I can never live in peace knowing that those monsters are out there."

"We have a lot to do," he yawned, cavernous, "But that means once it's over we won't have to do anything like it again."

She huffed and he chuckled, just barely.

"When it's over…ye and me…?"

"_Aye,_" he copied her accent and she cracked a smile, pleasing him.

"Ye and me, 'til the end of the world…"

"And then back again," he lifted himself on his palm to look at her drooping eyes.

"You know," she groaned at his disruption and he pulled a strand of hair around his finger, looping it idly, "My family may insist on a wedding."

She snorted, unladylike, "Boy-o, between setting up this new village, fighting a war and dealing with peace negotiations, they will'nae have any time to do anything so complicated."

He conceded and they spent an hour or so tossing and turning between them, grunting and groaning at their lack of sleep.

"Hey," he nudged her and she snapped at him _"Wha'?!" _"Tell me a story."

She blinked slowly but a small, cat-like smile spread over her mouth. She snuggled into his arms and he sighed as she began to tell him of all their own magical creatures. She told him the stories of gods that, in their sorrow, filled the oceans with tears. She told him of old witches with powers to turn men and creatures into stone. She told him of Selkies, women in seal skins that would walk among men for only twelve hours before returning back to the cold, gray ocean, and Kelpies that lured men to their watery graves. She told him of will-o-wisps and how they could bring travelers to their fate.

"Like ye," she yawned.

"Oh," he chuckled, "Is that so?"

"Aye," she felt her heart grow, expand. She was letting go of so much, the castle, her responsibilities, her duties, all the expectations of her life and future, and it made her feel equal parts free and displaced.

"When the wisps led ye to me, I was bein' led to ye."

He hummed, "I think I can agree with that."

There was so much between them, blood and death and horror. But they found themselves reaching past it, flying over it, to reach each other. Hiccup was willing to slow down to help her, was willing to change the tides of the universe to see her smile. Merida was willing to let go of everything she believed about herself and others and was ready to let go of her own self-expectations. He showed her how vast and full the world is, the adventures promised by the wide open sky. She made his blood sing with danger and he knew that she was everything he ever needed to keep his heart racing.

Fate may be cruel at times—but he was glad his thread, woven between the fingers of the Norns, was inextricably tied to hers. He knew, now, that the fates could not be denied, just as her teacher had previously claimed, but he felt no need to attempt such a feat. All their fighting and denying and struggling led to this—

—Her head on his shoulder and his arms around her.

And he knew that if it would be this way, he felt no fear for the future.

* * *

Merida heard the trumpeting of the bagpipes in the distance and groaned, rolling into her pillow in an attempt to deafen the noise. She didn't understand what the Clans were doing here _now, _of all times, it's _summer, _for goodness' sake—

—She shrieked and Hiccup fell out of bed with a shout, reaching blindly for his prosthesis, hopping and holding is above his head for a makeshift weapon.

"Mer-!" He blushed when she hopped up and started attempting to wriggle into her brown tights, still covered in mud like her boots, flashing him quite a bit of skin in the process.

"The Clans, Hiccup, the Clans are comin', can ye not hear them?!"

He blinked crusted eyes and paused, metal leg still aloft. When his keen ears finally did hear the screeching wail of the strange Highlander instrument, he yelped and knelt to attach his leg and shrug back into his vest.

"What are we gonna' do?!" He yanked on the straps, the belts, panic in him.

"We have to—Oh, by God, Hiccup, does the door work? The gate?!"

"Yes!" He stood, to slip on his boot, "It's got some weak points, but it'll close now, at least!"

"We must close and bar the gates, no one goes in or out, save me!"

"What?"

There was a beat, both of them stopping to look at the other with confusion.

"You can't go alone."

"I can'nae take ye _with me!_"

"Yes, you-you have to! Merida, this is important! If something goes wrong—! I can't—! I couldn't—!''

"Lad, easy!" She shook him briskly and brushed her hands down her dress and hair, standing tall.

"I am Queen of DunBroch. No one will dare lay a hand on me, lest my father gut them."

"But what if it _is _your father?"

She hesitated, "They would'nae let him come here…it's defenseless and dangerous. Surely word has reached them about the state of the castle."

He rolled his eyes, "Merida…if your father is anything like you, do you think he'd do what others tell him?"

She groaned and buried her face in her hands before grabbing him and running down the hallways, glad to see that the Vikings did not trespass deeper into the castles to take up the spare bedrooms and fill the hallways with their girth. But there were several sleeping in the wreck of the throne room and she shouted, furiously, that they get to their feet and man the walls. She was pleasantly surprised when they jumped up with throaty yells of agreement and rushed to get their weapons and do as she commanded.

"Is giving them an armored front the best plan?" Hiccup huffed, out of breath from their trek.

"They'll either cut ye down before ye speak or offend so deeply they'll begin a war without an hour passed. This is _their home_," she grabbed him by the collar, "Yer da sits on my own's throne and yer ma commands mine's household! We must bar them first and get everyone to speak somewhere unclaimed!"

"Okay, I like the plan, where's the neutral ground?"

She fluttered her hands and whipped in little circles, the edge of her skirt hitting his leg, "Um! The Stone Circle! It's the best I've got!"

"Merida," he kissed her soundly on the mouth and her twitching fingers found his shoulders and squeezed until he released her lips, "This is a good plan and it _will _work."

She blinked wet eyes and him and nodded.

Neither one of them paid any attention to just how faint the bagpipes were in the distance.

Hiccup found a shield, leaning against a home that was occupied and began hammering the metal center furiously with his sword hilt. Dragons appeared, eyes crossed and gait unsteady, growling and furious about the rude awakening. Vikings appeared moments after, looking equally cross and exhausted from the previous day's work.

Hiccup commanded them quickly and succinctly, putting archers along the walls and well trained riders in the air. She whistled and Saorsa and Toothless appeared from the stables, having slept through the night despite it going against their natural inclinations. She was just about to take to the sky when Hiccup stopped her.

"You're too obvious, they're made to blend into the night sky. I'll send a Terrible Terror—he'll look like a bird."

She remembered the one that appeared to him and brought this all upon them, brought them to his shores, pushed her into his waiting arms. He looked up and she followed his gaze, not surprised to see over a hundred of them resting along the castle roof—he clicked his tongue and over a dozen descended, flocking to him and making him dance, awkwardly, from the prickling of their sharp claws through his clothing.

"How will we know how close they are?" Merida muttered, "It's not like they can _tell _us."

"Sure they can!" Hiccup grinned, "It's simple mathematics, really, and we know how much distance they traverse because—"

"Never-mind!" She shook her head, "Just get on with it!"

He checked the sun's position in the sky before he explained, in plain terms, what he wanted the dragon to do. Merida looked on, incredulous, as the lizard licked his own eyeball with a limp tongue before leaping into the sky.

"Good thing they're playin' a marchin' tune," she rolled her eyes at him, "'Cause that will never work."

He sighed at her retreating back, her dragon on her heels, Toothless eyeing them both leave before turning his attention to his rider.

"Hiccup!" Astrid called and he turned to see her and Fishlegs approaching, Stormfly and Meatlug only a few steps behind.

"What's going on?" Fishlegs asked.

"The Clans are on their way, they're marching back to DunBroch. Merida fears they won't listen to her so we need to bar the gates and prepare for battle in case they denounce her."

"Do you think they will?" Astrid asked, axe already strapped to her shoulders but lacking her armor.

"I don't know them well enough to guess," he shrugged, "She fears they might so we need to prepare like they will."

"Done," Astrid swung her blade around, flipping it expertly, "What's her signal?"

"I don't know…?"

She rolled her blue eyes before turning and commanding that Fishlegs and his Meatlug along the walls, making sure that his Gronkle was well fed and full of molten lava blasts before turning to her once love.

"You'll be with her?"

He winced, "I'll be above, keeping an eye out with Toothless."

She raised a brow and he held his breath, looking away and swinging his arms. She was patient and continued her sharp stare until he coughed, sputtering, "I don't know, she doesn't want me nearby!"

"She doesn't want her fake-husband by her side when she greets her hostile family? Wow, what a shock," she swung her axe into her open palm a few times, smirking.

"I know, okay? I know!" He paced, hands flapping and he knew he shouldn't talk to his ex-girlfriend about his current soon-to-be _something_, maybe, hopefully, "She's capable and independent and she can do all _this _way better than me, but I'm worried!"

"About her people abandoning her?"

He swallowed, "Well…it's a rough thing to go through…"

She nodded, "You would know."

Silence pulled long between them, as long as the years and as far and deep as the seas and oceans that distanced them.

"Astrid…"

She sighed and nodded her blond head, hair long and undone which was unusual. She'd plait it before battle, but it was early still.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, Hiccup," she turned away, half ready to run to Stormfly and leap into the air when she stopped and looked back, "I can't say it's okay, because it's not…but I'm glad things turned out the way they did, if that helps."

He felt his throat clench, "Really? Why's that?"

She sighed, running a hand through her pale blond locks, "Because…we're here? We're alive, at least some of us. My mother and father made it because of you and Toothless and we'll be able to keep living because of her and she's…well," she laughed, swinging her blade idly, "She's great, Hiccup. Really great, actually. I like her. She's fearless."

He chuckled, flushing brightly, "Really?"

"Yeah…and you deserve to be happy. By Thor, we both do, we _all_ do. Gods, Hiccup, the things we've seen, the things we've done…!"

She closed her eyes and sighed, "We've saved so many, we've killed so many, humans, dragons…Doesn't matter, though, does it? We keep facing more death, more war."

He felt his eyes grow hot, "Do you think things would have been different? If we hadn't done…what we had to do, I mean?"

"Between us?"

He shrugged and she flicked her axe into her holster along her back and crossing her arms, "Who knows, Hiccup? What does it matter? All that's important its what's here, now—we have to make the best out of this. We have to make sure we can maintain this peace, build our homes here and not start killing more again. I don't think I can take it."

Her eyes, which were always so bright and so strong, were downcast and sad. It was an odd look for Astrid—his righthand, his general in arms, his best friend and first love. He preferred her anger, her righteousness in the same way he preferred it in Merida.

"I hope we don't have to raise our weapons," he sighed, "I want the same peace you do."

"But you're still willing to leave," she snapped, "You can run if you want."

"No," he ran his hand through his hair, "Not without her."

Astrid's eyes widened before she scoffed, "You'd stay for her?"

He shook his head, "No…I'm leaving with her."

"She…?"

"She's tired, too. Like me, like you. And she's willing to leave with me, unlike you."

It wasn't an accusation, it was simply the truth.

"I didn't think she'd…well, she seems so determined, unlike you."

He shrugged, "She is. But she wants her freedom."

"Like us all."

Nodding, he approached and took her hands in his. He could feel her callouses from her axe, different than his own, different than Merida's.

"I'm sorry, for…for how things worked out, between us, I mean…"

"Don't be," her fingers grasped his, "I'm glad that it happened. I'm glad I loved you, Hiccup. I'm glad for the days and nights we shared, the love we had. You showed me what I wanted, what I needed, what I will look for in another. We were good for each other."

He smirked, "We were."

"But you needed to leave," she continued, sighing, "And I know you did, now. I used to blame you, I used to accuse you, when I was alone at night, wondering where in Thor's name you were. But now I see it was fate's design. The Norn's brought you to her shores, brought you to her so that she could bring us here."

Her eyes lowered then met his, shaking his palms in hers, "It was designed, Hiccup. All of it. The gods led us here, they gave and they took. It was meant to be."

He blinked back tears, "I will love you, always, you know?"

"Of course," her own eyes were wet, "I love you, too. But I'm glad that you have someone new to love, to grow with, to explore with. I am glad to have seen how strong you've become and I hope I will see what a person you will one day be."

He kissed her cheek, "Be careful, Astrid."

She scoffed then, pulling away, "Never. I will put the village first."

"As you always have and will," he nodded to her, "And the village will be better off for it."

She turned to Stormfly, who clicked and cooed. Her leg had fared well and, although Saorsa and her were still not friends, she no longer feared Toothless and they played together as they once had. He stroked her nose while Astrid climbed upon her back and gave him one last smile before they jumped into the air, twisting and turning to stay high above and out of range of normal weapons but able to fire the Deadly Nadder spines.

And Hiccup turned, calling to Toothless and a few men to bar the restored gate, missing the flash of red curls dashing out of view of the closing doors.

* * *

Merida wrung her fingers, demanding them, quietly, under her breath, that they stop shaking. Her eyes and cheeks were burning hot, her throat tight and itching, her entire neck and back nothing but knots. She paced as her dragon watched and swallowed tears, hiccuping softly before reaching down and grasping rocks and strands of grass to toss with all her might as she shouted, clawed hands coming to tug at her red hair.

She had never seen him with Astrid like that and, now that she had, she wished she never did. Their love was so apparent, so palpable, she could scarcely withstand watching them. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she had returned after rounding up the villagers on the outside of the walls of DunBroch to see them standing, speaking, caressing each other as if they had never separated. She had wanted, then, to pull away from her place, to run away from the image, but she was stuck as if something from beneath had gripped her by the ankles and demand she observe their intimacy.

He had kissed her.

_He kissed her. _

She couldn't hear what was said, she was too far off. But their clasped hands and locked gazes spoke volumes.

Gasping again, Merida covered her mouth with her hand and hated herself for her weakness. Saorsa warbled, running the flat planes of her face and head against her legs like a needy cat and her hands fell to the warm hide of her dragon to attempt to push her away with little success.

She had sacrificed so much for him, had endangered so much for his people. It had been her choice, she would not dare suggest otherwise, but that did not mean that she didn't regret it now. She should have slain him when he slept! She should have abandoned them on their ruined shores and spared DunBroch from a second invasion! She should fly to the incoming army and lead them against the Viking hoard and slaughter them all, Hiccup included!

But she would never dare.

When hot tears spotted Saorsa's head, the droplets making her gorgeous scales even more reflective in the sunlight, Merida could not stop her knees from buckling as she grasped the dragon around her neck and cried.

She had believed that he wanted her, that he could grow to love her if he did not already. But now she knew it wasn't so—she was just someone that stood in Astrid's place and was willing to leave while Astrid stood her ground and defended her people.

But she had considered, more than considered, _decided _to leave everyone and everything she loved behind because she allowed him to influence her.

"Stupid…" she growled, her teeth grinding, "I'm nothin' but a fool, Saorsa!"

She cooed and trilled in her ear, rubbing her cheek against her own.

"I believed him…!"

She pulled away to look into her eyes, as bright as the sun, brighter, perhaps.

"I wanted to be with him! I wanted to leave with him!"

More warbles, her tail moving to encompass her as if in an embrace.

"I thought…I thought it was what I wanted…"

She sniffled and rubbed her nose with the back of her sleeve, "I thought I loved him…I _do_ love him…But he loves her! She's who he really wanted, all this time and I'm just a replacement!"

She put her brow against the dragon's, stifling sobs with her teeth digging into her lower lip.

Nothing made sense in this moment.

Merida knew that she made her own decisions, that much was certain. However, she could not deny that Hiccup had offered her something she had never dared consider before—leaving. This was something that broke what she considered to be a fundamental part of her, her resolve being something that she prided herself in, coming second only to her stubbornness. He helped shatter a part of her that she had never realized was holding her down, prying shackles from her wrists and ankles that kept her grounded to the castle. She had never known how tight her corset had been tied, how restrictive her long dresses were, how far she could fly in this big world without those things holding her back.

She had relinquished her position, her castle, her crown.

Because he showed her that she could.

"And I still can," she whispered, refusing to snivel, "With or without him…"

It would be a lie if she didn't feel like she was losing something when she thought about Hiccup never being with her. She wasn't a romantic at heart—she didn't coo over plucked flowers when she could ride Angus into a glen full of them, she didn't care for golden rings or shimmering gemstones when her arrowheads glinted twice as bright, she was bored to death by poetry of any kind and she had no use for great names or glory or land. She believed she knew what she wanted until Hiccup came and put everything into a different light, another perspective she wasn't aware was even there.

She loved him, without a doubt in her heart, she knew this to be true. She had never wanted something the way she had wanted to be with him, to fly the world with him at her side, their dragons wing's just barely brushing against each other as they flew, two equal partnerships. She didn't want their bond to break, even if it endangered them both—she had no want to live if he weren't on this earth. He was brilliant, funny, kind and she knew there was no one else like him anywhere, no matter how far she and Saorsa soared. She had shared her food and bed with him, welcomed him into her life and arms like she had no one before him.

And she believed him to love her, she had believed his words when they lay side by side, the smell of him in her nose. Sweat and iron and lightning and the soft dilution of clouds and sky. She had come to love him and his people, despite their barbarism, despite their oddities from her. She had become one of them and hoped to one day dress Hiccup in the tartan of her family and have him stand as equal among her own peers.

Not for long, however, just for a moment.

Then they'd be off again.

She had dreamed of an island where war could not reach, death as far away as he could be, the land as vibrant as DunBroch and as treacherous as Berk. There would be a house on top of a hill, not too big nor too small and the days and nights would be filled with the sounds of dragons. Every single type would flock to the island, they'd fill caverns and hills and caves, they'd dig in the earth and swim in the seas. They would run underfoot and fly overhead, but the chaos would be controlled with Toothless and Saorsa at the helm of the madness. Hiccup would tinker in a forge heated with dragon flame and sell his gadgets at the nearby port town while he wasn't flying around and training the dragons. She'd fly with him and they'd have a place to come home to, but they'd still travel around as free as could be.

_Freedom._

But maybe her freedom and his were not tied together, as she thought, but separate.

And at the moment, there were bigger issues at hand. Firstly, she had to ensure that there was no hostility between her people, who were fast approaching, and his own. She prepared them to fight, but it would be the dragons that would cinch the battle if it should come to that, not that she'd let it and Hiccup would make Toothless command all the scaled beasts to stand down and the small remnants of the Berkian tribe would have no choice but to negotiate.

And then there were the brothers to worry about, and their massive hoard of dragons that could be controlled at will. Merida worried about what she knew and if the boy could crawl into the minds of men and women alike, turning them into mindless animals that can do little but swing a hammer or an axe and can never return to who they once were again, then she would have to find a way to protect those under her care. She bit her thumbnail as she thought about what Moira told her, the plan she had coming clearer into her mind.

"A storm in me…aye," she murmured, "A storm…"

She looked to her lightning-bred dragon, who smelled of ozone and a light, musky smell that came from laying in hey and grass while she slept.

"Oh, for the love of—of course!"

She nearly hit herself on the head, her thoughts sad but resolute.

Hiccup, she decided, would wait. If he wanted to leave her, he would have to man up and tell her himself. She could hold her tongue, even if it scorched her like nothing else, she could be calm when others thought she'd be mad. No, she'd wait for his admission and then she would call him out as a coward before his motley crew and make sure he never took the position of chief. It was her anger speaking, deep within her heart, but the thought of his embarrassment helped sooth the ache of her own humiliation.

When she stood, she placed a kiss on the long nose of her dragon before straddling her back, refusing to think about the hands that had built that saddle, "Come, my darlin'."

They leapt into the air and flew, Merida refusing to look down the entire trip.

* * *

Hiccup was always happy to see Merida in the armor he had made, the time he had put into making it an effort worth seeing it conform to her body. It shone black and blue and green in the sunlight, the crushed scales of the Nightfury still managed to shimmer incandescently even after being blasted with a plasma bolt to adhere to the leather. He was glad that his rough measurements fit her so well, stuck to her like a second skin, as if she had grown a hide just as thick and brilliant as her dragon's. With her hair pulled back into a tight braid that snaked down her back, one thick curl falling across her eye as she strutted across the compound, her helmet in her hand, she looked every bit a general prepared for war.

"Fishlegs," she snapped and he yelped, trying not to cower, "I want ye and all the other Gronckles on the wall. We will rain down fire should need be, but only as a barrier to deter any from climbing up. Snotlout? I want ye and all the larger dragons in the air—we'll put on quite a show should they appear to start a fight they can'nae win. Astrid, I know ye're a better shot than most on that Nadder, but save yer spines for better targets, ye ken me? Ruffnut, Tuffnut?"

"Yeah!" They crashed their helms together and Merida rolled her eyes.

"I want this place rigged, ye hear me?"

"Rigged?" Astrid raised a blonde brow.

"Listen," she wore a bright smirk, "If, and I mean if, my wee brothers get here, och," she put her hands on her hips, "Ye'll have three masterminds findin' every which way into this place. They are brilliant, destructive, and know the castle better than anyone, myself included. This place needs to be full of every trap yer mad heads can summon, Loki be with ye."

The twins stood, with the others and Hiccup, mouths completely agape.

The twins cackled and Tuffnut threw his clawed hands into the air, "Loki is _summoned! _All hail Loki!"

His sister mimicked him and cracked their horned helmets together in solidarity.

"Eh," Hiccup approached, "Is that really a good id—?"

"Gobber, Stoick, Valka," she placed her arm over her chest in respect, "I will arrange a meetin' with the general that arrives. If it be my father, understand this now—ye are in his home and ye are on his land, so ye best act like it. We do not want war or death or any more loss than all of us have already sustained. There is equal need between us all. I will broker what I can between ye, but ye must have fair ground. I will not put ye before my parents and people and I can assure ye the same the other way, d'you understand?"

"Well, alrighty, then," Gobber chuckled, "Fair enough, princess."

"Good," she took his word over the stuttering of the chief and chieftess, barely pausing to nod to them as she moved past everyone to grab her bow and revolving quiver that she attached to Saorsa, who chattered in excitement at the prospect of flight.

"No one," she barred her teeth, "_Not a soul _goes near me until I give my signal, do ye ken? I will not start a war due to any stupidity."

"And the signal?" Snapped Astrid.

"An arrow," she pointed her finger to a pole that stood in the middle of the compound, bereft of anything, "If I shoot the pole, I want the Gronckles and Nightmares to put on a show. Two arrows and I want a threat display from the Nadders at the feet of the soldiers. No one gets hurt, no one dies."

She looked at them, eyes sharp and cold as glaciers, her voice suddenly carrying to the entire encampment of displaced Vikings, over the encroaching bagpipes, "Hear me now! We can _do _this! We can have this home, a peaceful home, without violence, without war! Ye can live with Scotts without death or raids! We can have our dragons without bein' besieged! Believe in this! Believe in _me!" _

Tuffnut scoffed, "Man, she's a better Viking than you could ever hope to be."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, "Don't I know it…"

"Berk will have peace with DunBroch. Ye all shall have homes and farms and yer dragons will be safe. I only ask that ye raise yer weapons only once more, against the brothers that dare harm both yer land and mine. After we slay them, we shall know peace."

There was a great cheer and she nodded, the sounds of the bagpipes nearly as loud in his ears as the shouting. Saorsa stood, bright eyes scorching those around her with the same ferocity as the sun itself, every bit an Alpha as Toothless.

"And me?" Hiccup approached.

"I have a job for ye, aye," she took a deep breath, "I need ye in the forge."

"The-the-wait, what?"

"Storm-Bringer, the blade ye found, I need ye to remake it."

"I-Well…okay, yeah, I can totally do that. But, Merida, I want to be with you, out there, on the front lines. Like we were before, like we will be again, for…I mean," he scratched the back of his head, unable to meet her unwavering blue gaze, "I thought, what I mean to say is, we're a team."

"Not in this," he felt his stomach drop, "There is somethin' to that sword, somethin' I think will help us. Remake it and I shall plunge it through that wee demon's heart and seal him in the underworld forevermore."

"You? All alone? How do you even know he's still out there, still alive?"

She flipped the one corkscrew curl out of her eye, "Yes, Hiccup—alone. And I know because I feel him, like oil on my skin."

"Then what about me? What about _us?_" He couldn't tell his tone was rising, "We're in this together! You asked me for your help and I agreed! You and me! Un-until the end of the world!"

Her eyes wavered, briefly, "…Hiccup…"

"No! No, no, no, you _do not _get to do this right now! You don't get to—to—to toss me aside! Like I'm worthless! Like I mean nothing!"

"Oh, so ye can?"

"What?"

"Ye can toss me aside? For another lass, the one ye really want? I saw ye, ye ken! I saw ye with Astrid!"

"Oh, for the love of—By Odin's missing eye, Merida! We were saying _goodbye!"_

She heaved, her chest plate bobbing up and down with the force of her breaths, "That did'nae look like any goodbye I've seen, Haddock."

He rubbed his hands over his face and laughed (_he had the audacity to laugh!), _"Oh, gods, really?"

He looked up at the sky as if he could confront the vengeful deities that seemed to mock him at every turn, as he so often did to them.

"Merida," he reached for her and she backed up, unaware of the eyes on them, "I loved her. She was my first love and I will love her always—!"

"Ye dare—!"

"Oh, would you_ shut it?!_"

Her mouth snapped closed and she sputtered, having forgotten the last time she had made him so furious.

"I loved her, yes, but we are done, alright? Done! Honestly, you should be thanking Astrid—!"

"_Thankin' _her?"

"Y-yes! Because she taught me to love and how to be a good man! When to—when to fight and when to back down! What to give in a relationship and when to ask for help! Astrid taught me what real, good love is and I—I keep forgetting you don't…"

He had gotten quieter in his rampage, his one hand coming out to take hers and she let his fingers gently grasp her arm.

"You didn't have that. You haven't had someone teach you, not yet. But I could be that person. I want to be that person. I haven't said it yet, and maybe…maybe that's why…"

"…Hiccup?"

"I want you, Merida. I want you with me, from now until my soul ascends to Valhalla, to the great mead hall where I will dine with my ancestors, with my father and Gobber. I want you to want me, too. I want you to—to want to walk with me, to fly with me, to lie by me in our bed.

"I want you to love me, because I love you."

"Ye—ah…" she blinked, her throat swelling with emotion.

"I love your fire," he reached out to touch her but pulled back, "I love your brilliance, your fury. You are…ha, a dragon wrapped in human skin. You're more than a princess, a queen, you're a goddess, a Valkyrie.

"And I want—I want…"

"What do ye want?"

His gaze met hers, finally.

"Tell me, Hiccup. Tell me what ye want."

"I want to be with you. Astrid was right, she said that the fates have woven our threads together and she was right, I was _meant_ to meet you, I was born so that we could be here, together! Thor, Merida! You're brilliant and I want…_you."_

His mind raced to think of something he could offer her, show her his true intentions to be with her always. He had made Astrid's gift by hand, a pendant that she wore and he was proud to have made, but he hadn't had any reprieve to construct something like that for Merida. He whistled once and Toothless, face plates shuddering with annoyance at the loud sound of the bagpipes marching ever closer, approached him. He reached into his saddle bags, always attached and ready to leave if need be, the tiny pocket where he had stowed away that bit of metal he had found what seemed like years ago. It wasn't the betrothal gift he wanted to give her, but it was something worth some money and it would do for now.

"I don't…I don't need a wedding on Friday, I don't need our parents blessings, or the gods for that matter," he muttered, pressing the pendant into her palm, "I don't need rings or a ceremony or a big house built on the hill.

"I only need you," he closed her fingers around it, locking eyes with her, "You and the open sky and ocean and our dragons. I want to ride the waves of life with you—if you'll have me."

She blinked wet eyes and opened her hand, gasping. Her other palm found her throat as she sputtered and pressed the necklace to her chest.

_Her _necklace.

"Where—where did ye _get this?_"

"In the cave. The first day we spent together after I took you away from this place…Is it—is it yours?"

Tears fell from her eyes as she nodded, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, Thor, I'm a fool. Of—of course it's yours! How else would it have gotten there, by the gods, Merida…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it and keep it from you all this time—!"

"No! Hiccup," she put her hands on his shoulders, letting him wrap her up into him, "It-it was mine, yes, long ago. I gave it to Moira, for the spell that changed my mum into a bear. She kept it, all these years, and I-I must have took it after I…slaughtered her. It…I forgot it. I forgot I took it and you must have…"

She put it on, her hand coming to rest on it. Hiccup could see now, in the broad daylight, that it wasn't wolves that danced along the metal—but bears, her family crest.

"Hiccup…" she whispered, not meeting his eyes, "I love ye, as well."

He felt the world spin, not just tilt as it so often did when he was risking his skin for a rush, but spin like he was soaring in terrifying corkscrews without a thought for the ever incoming ground. Not with Toothless under him, keeping him safe, despite the thrill, oh, gods, no—he was free flying with his fight suit, seconds away from plummeting to his death and it made his heart sputter and trip like after he first lost his leg and he dropped to his knees, holding onto her hips to steady himself.

"You'll…?"

"I'll have ye, aye, ye big numpty…" she cooed, hand still at her throat, "Och, we lamb…!"

He was kissing her, before she or him knew it. He dipped her and she laughed and he reached out to pick her up and spin her, making her as dizzy as she made him. For a moment, the world was nothing but clouds and dragons and sky—it was joy and adrenaline and endless. He wanted to hold onto this precious bit of time for the rest of eternity.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, after he put her down, "I should'nae have accused ye of wanting someone else."

"No," he peppered kisses along her cheek, the corner of her mouth, "You shouldn't have and you won't again."

"Nay," she whispered, eyes closed as he lavished her with affection, his dragon at his feet pawing at him, wanting his own attention, "I swear to ye, I won't again."

"We'll see how long that lasts," she swatted at him and he dodged, feeling lighter than a cloud, "You _do _have a temper, princess."

"Och, shut it!"

He grabbed her up again and she yelped but leaned to press her forehead against his, "Make me."

Her brow raised at his challenge but pressed her swollen lips to his, her hands wrapping in his hair as she pressed herself tightly to him. He laughed into her mouth and they separated, still refusing to put her down. If anyone was watching, let them—he'd flaunt her to the gods themselves if they descended from Asgard, surely worthy of Idunn's apples.

"Go get yer armor on, boy-o," she muttered against his cheek, "I'll need ye by my side."

"As you wish," he dropped her with a wink and she landed easily on her feet, "Princess."

She rolled her eyes, letting her smile drop once he started walking away, Toothless bounding after him. Merida would keep him close—for now. But if her mind was right and she knew what she had to do…

She would not allow him to endanger himself.

But first she had to break their bond.

Sighing, she motioned to her dragon and faced the high gates of her home, hearing the sound of her people draw ever closer.

* * *

Hiccup had returned to her when she heard the odd dying screech of deflating bagpipes as the army quit their marching. There was a collection of confused mutterings, some banging on the gate as the two armies stood, quiet, on either side. Merida had her hand out, sitting on Saorsa's back, making the Vikings wait for just the right moment before she shot into the air, Hiccup and Toothless on her tail, their wings blocking out the sun before they shot down, careening, landing in front of the arm with dual thuds. She would forever blame her want of a good entrance on Hiccup.

Merida kept her gaze low, seeing the dirt and feet of the soldiers as they gasped and shouted, swords drawn with swift clicks and presented in shaking palms as she and Hiccup, masked, faced them. Sweat dripped down between her shoulders, her back, from nervousness and the Southern heat. Her mask was big enough to hide her face and the top of her head, her hair obscured as long as she faced forward.

"What in the devil's name—?!"

Her heart stuttered, her throat clenching as she raised her head to search the crowd for the source of that voice. There, stomping through the troops, was Fergus DunBroch and her mother, brows lowered in confusion as they shoved through the crowd. She wanted to shout, to run to them, her knees shaking with effort to stop herself from rushing into their arms. Hiccup's hand found her shoulder and she took a deep breath, golden lenses that matched her dragon staring out at them.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

His face was nearly purple, loathing like nothing she had seen before in his eyes.

She cleared her throat, knowing her mask would keep her fairly concealed and attempted to lower her voice to sound different.

"King Fergus of Clan DunBroch—!" Her throat clenched and she coughed, "Erm…ahh…"

Her mother, however, hands across her belly as if to hold herself back, watched in immediate realization. Her husband reached for her when she advanced, slowly, but she shook his rough hands from her arms as she approached the pair without hesitation. Merida took a step back, but could not avoid her mother's nimble fingers, as strong and quick as her own, when she reached out and tipped the mask back and onto the ground.

_(She hoped the glass lenses didn't break—they were such a pain for Hiccup to make.)_

"Merida…?"

She swallowed, saying nothing.

She was in her arms, then, and her father was running, racing, screaming her name as he lifted her, now completely ignoring the dragons and Hiccup. They were crying, she realized, and she had to bite back her own desire to sob into their embrace.

"Oh, lass!" Her father dropped her and her mother, one of each parent's hand on either side of her face, "We thought we'd lost ye…"

"No," her own fingers rose to grip theirs, "I'm alright, I'm fine, really, I promise!"

"Merida, why did ye stay?!" Her mother's relief turned to hot fury, as it so often did, "We would have never asked ye—!"

"I know," she sniffled, "I'm sorry! I could'nae just run away from the castle! What—what ye built, da, what ye managed to make, please, I _tried—!" _

"Oh, _mo nighean_, my brave, wee, lassie…" Fergus held the back of his daughters neck, drawing her into his embrace again, "I care not for stone nor mortar. I care only for ye and to see ye safe, to have ye in my arms once more…I can now cross the river to the world beyond in peace."

"I tried to save them, truly, I did—!"

"And she succeeded," Hiccup interjected, having taken off his own mask, knowing that Merida would cave if this continued, "She saved as many as she could."

"And who the fu—?"

"Da!" She wheeled back at the violence in her father's expression, the murderous waves he gave off. Hiccup didn't know if Scotts could go berserk, but the Bear King seemed like a fairly good candidate for such mindless violence, "This is Hiccup. I would have died if it wasn't for him and his dragon, Toothless."

"Hiccup? Toothless?" He sounded them out, looking over her then, his brow lowering, "Those are…"

"Viking names, yes," Hiccup nodded, refusing to back down.

"Lass," he grabbed Merida by the arm and she couldn't help but yelp, "Ye best tell me that my eyes are playin' tricks 'cause I know there is'nae a damn Viking on my land!"

"Viking, no," the Queen of DunBroch noticed how his eyes kept strict track of Merida, not liking the rough treatment of her father, "Viking_s, _yes."

"What did ye say?!"

He shook Merida and she yelped again, her hands coming to claw at those holding her, "Da, stop it! Yer hurtin' me!"

Both Saorsa and Toothless got low, mouths burning brightly behind their barred teeth, promising King Fergus a swift death should he not drop the princess. Hiccup suppressed the part of him that was his dragon, _protection _rising up to choke him. He wanted to remove that hand that touched Merida, who dared hurt her, but swallowed his rage with effort.

"Fergus," Elinor approached, calm, reasonable, but Hiccup could see her concern, "Easy, now, husband."

He knew that tone well.

He dropped Merida and she scrambled back, chest heaving with emotion.

"This isn't the way to do this," Hiccup spoke to the queen seeing her to be the most reasonable, "We need equal footing."

"Aye," her mouth was a grim line, "I'd say we do. But this is our land, young man—just where do ye suggest we go?"

"The—the stones," he swallowed, watching how Merida nodded, despite her still shaking lightly, "The sacred stones. They are ruled by another power, right?"

"Och, come _on,"_ Fergus spat, throwing his helmet away from him, stomping in circles like a furious bear, "Are ye _serious?_"

Elinor ignored him, "Fine. The stones."

"Just ye," Merida spoke, her voice firm, "We shall bring Chief Stoick and Chieftess Valka to meet with us."

Elinor eyed her daughter, how thin her face had become, the dark marks under her eyes. The instinct in her cried out to nourish, protect and hold her child to her. But another part of her, the part she had nurtured for many years, the part of her that was all queen, that part warned her of the danger of this situation. Why Merida was with this man was yet to be seen, but she had a monstrous beast now, the same that nearly killed wee Dingwall and she had called it _hers_. Seeing how the monster protected her, it was a claim that went both ways.

Elinor did not like not knowing all the pieces on the board so that she might move accordingly.

"I can agree to that," she motioned toward the two black reptiles behind them, "No weapons, then."

"They're not weapons, mum," Merida spat, "They're our friends."

"Either way," Elinor resisted the urge to rub her temples, "They're friends that spout fire and death, Merida, and they are'nae welcome at a peace negotiation."

"Fine," the boy, Hiccup, agreed, just a foot in front of her daughter.

Was he manipulating her? Did he have some control over her that was making Merida turn against her family? She wanted to speak with her daughter alone, away from him, to ensure she was safe—there had to be something he has that would make her do this, act like this, attempt to hide herself from them and trick them.

"In an hour," Merida swallowed, thickly, her shoulders back, "In one hour we'll meet and discuss terms of peace."

"Peace? _Peace? _Ye think we can have peace with these—these—these monsters? Merida! Where is yer pride, lass?"

Fergus went to advance again, and Elinor watched as Hiccup put a hand between daughter and father.

_'__Watch it, lad,' _she couldn't help but think, _'Or ye'll be missin' an arm as well.'_

But Merida, never one to cower in front of any man, her father included, bowed up to meet his rage.

"We _will _have peace. Or _ye can leave_ these lands_."_

"These _are my lands!" _

She cocked an orange brow, "Are ye so sure about that, _da_?"

"I am yer father and ye best watch yerself, lass, or ye'll be callin' yerself Lady Dingwall by next summer."

Even Elinor found that to be a low blow and she barely stopped herself from snapping at her husband publicly.

"_I _am the _queen," _Merida spat, nose to crooked-nose with her father, "By yer own_ decree."_

There was a moment where everyone held their breath, no one seemed to move, suspended by the rage between parent and child.

"Are ye sure," he asked, lowly, "Ye ken what yer doin', Merida? The side yer takin'?"

"I take no side," she glared, "Only my own. And I have a vendetta against the boys who slaughtered our people and plagued our home and I mean to stop their violence. The Berk tribe is with me and I want ye to be with me as well—but know this," she stomped to her saddle and threaded an arrow onto her bow, pointing the tip at her own father, "I will'nae stop, so do'nae think to even try."

She spun and pointed it behind her and it soared over the gate, Hiccup wondering if there was any way she'd actually hit the post she claimed to before. But his sensitive ears picked up a _'thunk!' _and a hoard of Gronkles popped over the edge of the walls, spewing molten lava onto the ground below, lighting the bits of dry grass and kindling on fire just as at least forty Monstrous Nightmares swarmed the sky, setting themselves and their riders on fire. There was a rush of heat from behind and it flared behind them, lighting her from behind.

"Ye will lose."

Fergus, a ghostly white, looked down at his first-born in rage and disgust.

"To think," he growled, hurt in his eyes that Hiccup knew would bring Merida pain, "I sought to save ye, lass, I _wanted _to find ye."

Her chin raised, despite wobbling, no tears spattering her cheeks.

"Ye've thrown yer lot in with _them!_ Yer no Scott…" he shook his head in disappointment, "Yer not my daughter…"

He turned his back to her and Merida's chest heaved with emotion, but Hiccup was proud to realize there was no pleading or placating in her expression.

"Daughter or nay," she whispered to Elinor, "I sit on the throne now. And I lost everyone once—I shall'nae fail again!"

"Merida—!"

Her mother reached, perhaps to rebuke her, perhaps to assure her, but the princess was already in the air, Saorsa cutting through the clouds like a black star racing across the colorful sunset sky. Hiccup suppressed his own rage, knowing the pain those words caused, looked to the suffering queen.

Her eyes leaked tears and he softened, "I'll…speak with her."

"Do," she nodded, "I'll speak to my husband."

"In an hour, then."

"Aye," she nodded, turning back to the army that was shuffling its feet and pretending that it had not just witnessed such a terrible scene.

"Boy?"

He turned his head, waiting.

"Will ye tell me why…why my daughter is protecting ye instead of her own people?"

There was a beat, while he deliberated inwardly. Finally, Hiccup sighed and decided it was better to tell her more now, so that she could explain in the ear of Fergus. He knew a dangerous piece on the playing board when he saw one—and Elinor was assuredly a queen and could move any which way she pleased.

"Her…err, _your people_ are gone," he sighed, "She tried to save some, but there was no chance. The brothers that have been attacking all of our homes and lands have an army of magically controlled dragons. She had never seen one, let alone fought one before, but she still tried…but when she realized the battle was lost, she led as many women and children out through some secret underground passage into the woods. They were attacked by another dragon and they scattered, and if they made it or not…no one ever returned to the compound.

"My people were attacked within the last few weeks. They were cut down just like yours," he turned to look to the many men that stood before him, noticing the differing tartans, "They destroyed our revenue, our crops, our herds. We would have starved, but Merida offered us sanctuary on your lands. There are empty huts, empty farms—she believes we can help each other."

He scratched the back of his head, "Honestly, I doubted her at first…but she was right. If she did nothing, we'd all starve or my people would turn into the same marauding monsters that did this to your home. Uh," he seemed to hesitate, realizing his own words, "Um, _my_ tribe…the Hooligans, we don't want to raid or kill just to eat and scrape to survive, not when we can have our own lands to protect."

His green eyes were honest, she decided, and soulful. And he was very quick and clever, to know their language and speak so eloquently. He was a wonderful politician—he was reluctant to hold the position he so obviously did, as was best.

"And yer dragons?"

He shrugged, "It'll take some getting used to, but I think you'll see they're wonderful companions."

She resisted a small smirk and hummed. The lava of the Gronckles had turned into smoldering, black tar that continued to creep towards the forrest and the Monstrous Nightmares had receded behind the wall or scrabbled along the high towers of Castle DunBroch, flames low and guttering.

"And ye are, again?"

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," his chest raised in false confidence.

"Ye saved my daughter, then?"

He chuckled, "Well, after she whipped my leg out from under me _twice _and kicked me where even Odin's eye can't reach."

The queen resisted the urge to laugh, Hiccup could tell in the pursing of her lips.

"Sounds like my Merida."

He liked the queen, Hiccup decided. She would surely be an ally, once she saw all the same angles he did.

She hummed again, nodding to him and Toothless in respect, "One hour, then."

He turned and followed after Merida, urging Toothless' thoughts of _'race, fly, go, go, go!' _

The queen watched them leave, a hand at her throat in surprise.

This was not the reunion she expected or wanted.

But she would make do.

* * *

**Chapter twelve, complete.**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Negotiations

**I do not own _Brave_ or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Negotiations

**DunBroch**

Merida paced in the safety of the stone circle, her hands warm with the ever flowing magic that pulsed underneath this spot. It thrummed in her veins as if she was being filled with fire, with lightning, it warmed her from the inside out and made her feel infinite, eternal, another bead on a string of many witches that stood in this spot, all strung together and connected, a necklace of power that mimicked the dozen stones surrounding her. She couldn't help a small smile that came to her mouth—she had faces to put with that feeling, Moira and her long line of ancestors. She had to remind herself that she was part of that line too, now, and she would always have them even if her parents should disown her for her actions against them.

She put a palm to her head and groaned, digging the heels of hands into her eyes.

She had drawn her bow against her mother and father, had threatened them and sworn to battle on Hiccup's and the Berkians side.

And her father had disowned her.

Biting her lip, hard, she swallowed a sob and knew that her mother did not agree and would speak to him in private. He was angry, that was all—and just like his daughter, Fergus always had a bit of a temper. He was never too violent with them, but he had shouted plenty in her years and she had been on the receiving end of his open palm more than once in her life and she knew it was only because of the audience and the threat of dragon fire that her da did not raise his hand to her again.

The rush of wings and the disturbance they brought to the trees and surrounding grass and bushes alerted her to Hiccup's incoming descent. Usually she could hear Toothless' massive wing strength, but they must have been gliding to give her more time to collect herself and did not pick up nearly as much speed as he was capable.

They landed with a soft _'thump!'_ and Merida presented Hiccup with a trembling smile. Their dragons greeted each other with a little dance, wings flapping a few times before they turned in circles, chasing each other and rubbing their cheeks against one another's. Hiccup, watching them, dove and began to rub his scruffy cheek against Merida's smooth skin, trying and succeeding to make her screech with laughter as she tried to push him away and his draconic '_affection.' _

"Hiccup! Stop it!" She cackled as he scratched his chin against her neck, her laughter making her too weak to knock him back.

"Do you yield, princess?!" He dipped her and she gasped as he switched sides, his rough stubble making her shriek.

"I do! I do, I yield, all-mighty dragon master!"

He pulled back, eying his handiwork, the bright red patches of skin due to his ministrations and her glee.

"What do you concede to your conqueror, princess?"

"Oh, good sir!" She put her hand on her forehead as she leaned back into his grip, feigning weakness, "I have naught but meself to offer to ye!"

"A trade I'd make a thousand times over," he swung her up to standing again, kissing her soundly on the mouth.

She leaned her brow against him and he felt a moment wash over him, the world underneath him shifting and spinning. He would have this, have her, all to himself one day and soon, he swore. She would stand by his side and they'd soar all over the Archipelago, settling down for the winter season before picking back up in the spring. Maybe they'd have their own island, just for them, full of dragons and auburn haired, blue eyed babies that wielded turquoise fire and tinkered in a smoldering workshop.

Gods, he was proud of her. She was stronger than anyone he'd known and, here, now, surrounded by these old stones, she seemed even more otherworldly.

He reached behind her and undid the cord that held her tight braid in place, almost laughing as it sprung apart and began to expand like an unleashed Zippleback, the sections expanding in all directions. She gasped and reached when she felt the corkscrews reach to tickle her cheeks and huffed at him, complaining that it took Ruffnut some serious struggling to get it in such a confined state.

"I like it down," he spread it out further with his hands, "It looks like dragon fire. You're astoundingly beautiful, Merida."

Her cheeks were still flushed, from laughter and the light abrasions he gave her, but she darkened with pleasure. He called her beautiful often, while they were traveling with his tribe and avoiding detection, hunkered down in small caves or personal beaches, hiding from his annoying friends and relatives. She always blushed so dark at any compliments, unused to hearing such things from anyone.

_"__Not even your so-called _'suitors_'?" _He had asked, weeks ago, lounging in the soft sand of a poorly named island _(Dry-Eye island, so his map proclaimed—Toothless had licked his face and eyes while there)_.

_"__Nay, no one, never!" _She had answered, chuckling at him.

"And you are, by far, one of the strongest people I've met," he tucked her under his chin, holding her close as her hands reached back to grab at his shoulders, where the great wings of his tattoo rested under his armor, "And I know this will work, alright? I have faith in you."

"And I in ye, Hiccup," her voice was thick but there were still no tears and he sighed against her.

She pressed her nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. She would have found the thought appalling some months ago, but Hiccup smelled of leather and ozone and dragon and clouds. He smelled like safety and protection and adventure and freedom all rolled into one. He made her want to dance with danger, but made her feel so safe.

She tried to determine just how long she had loved him, but she couldn't put a time on any moment where she had decided, _yes, now is the perfect time to give my heart away! _It grew in her like her magic—for so long it was just a tickle, a tingle, an inkling and intuition that was more of a hindrance than anything else and then one day it seemed to _explode_ from within her, filling every crevice of her soul and she wondered, idly, how she had ever truly lived without such a rush.

She pulled back to cup his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing against his cheekbones.

"I wish…" she sighed, "I wish this was all over and done with."

"Soon," he murmured, his fingers coming up to grip hers, "Soon, Merida. Then we're free—truly, honestly _free."_

She nodded, "Did ye tell yer parents where to meet us?"

He nodded, "They'll be here. We'll send the dragons off once they do."

She hummed and stepped aside, returning to walking through the circle. He saw that one was broken in half, as if cut by a Typhoomerang's wings. He wondered, unsure, if this was the same circle where her mother had faced off with the prince turned monstrous bear, Mor'du, and crushed his massive body. He saw no bits of fur or claws peeking out from under the structure, but he wondered what he would find if he made Toothless lift it.

"So…what is this thing? Who built this? Moira?"

She scoffed at his ever burning curiosity, "Nay, lad, they're far older. A coven most likely banded together to make this, it takes more magic than any one person could dare hold. It's called a Caim—it's a protective circle that can be used for, well, many things…summonings, protection, opening up portals to the other realms. It makes me feel…"

She raised her palms to her face, a giddy laugh erupting from her, "God, I feel so strong here…"

Hiccup had noticed a slight change in her, sometime ago. Her magic seemed stronger, he could smell it on her skin and she seemed far less tired after she used a great amount of it.

"So…it amplifies your power?"

"Aye," her fingers fluttered and her wrists twisted, a bubble of bright blue magic between her palms in an instant. Hiccup watched in awe as she released it and it floated above them like a miniature star attached to string around her fingers. She made about a dozen more and they fanned out to a perfect circle, hovering above the stones, spinning and dancing lazily. Toothless warbled in awe, Saorsa raising her wide head to bask in their glow.

"I did this, ye know…" she muttered, "When Astrid found me…That's how she knew I was a witch."

Astrid had told him, but he had never imagined anything quite so beautiful.

"Can I…touch one?"

She blinked and one seemed to float, tauntingly out of his reach. She wasn't laughing though, as he chased it around and he realized she was keeping it from him.

"It…It was a weapon, before, I mean…I hurt Astrid with them…"

It hovered, right before his nose and he held his palms underneath it. It was incredibly warm, like a flame, and he wondered if it would indeed scorch him. A little worrisome part of him, Toothless he was sure, warned him against the danger it promised.

But he loved to ignore the rational, didn't he?

He grabbed a hold of it and hissed. It was hot, yes, but he had handled far hotter things, molten bits of metal, hammers that had rested too long near the bellows, half-finished projects he worked too quickly on. He threw it into the air and it flew up before slowly, painfully, drifting back into his hand. He looked at Merida with a grin.

"It's about willpower, right? That's what you said before."

"Aye," she muttered, weakly, "Magic _should _be about yer will…"

"Should?"

"I…something is happening to me, Hiccup, and…I'm scared…"

She looked at him, eyes still bright.

"I don't have to focus, to concentrate, to struggle," she presented her hands to him, "I-I just _think_ and—!"

Another orb formed and Hiccup released the one he was holding, watching it move back to its place in the circle above the stones.

She swallowed and closed her eyes.

The magic ball in her hands began to glow brightly and he turned his eyes away, noticing that all the other ones around them began to hum loudly, burning vividly and blinding in the twilight. Hiccup released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the sweat dripping down his brow a combination from the heat of the miniature suns she created and a twinge of fear.

"So you…you can't control it…?"

"I can," she nodded, "But…not really?"

"Okay…?"

She swallowed, "It's…it's _too easy. _I just think and it does what I want, but there are some things it does without me needin' to even think, Hiccup and I—!"

"Like what?" He needed all the pieces to put a solution together.

"It healed my leg," she whispered, "Faster than it should."

He should have realized that, he inwardly groaned. How quick her fever broke, how quick the wound clotted, how easily she was moving after just a day, even her dancing at the assembly. It was unnatural and she never asked him for herbs or potions to heal herself, so he assumed she couldn't manage to do it with everything going on. He believed she was too weak—but it turns out it was the opposite.

"Anything else? Anything other than that?"

"When…when I fought Astrid…I don't remember tossin' her away, not at all, I would'nae have done it so hard, ye ken. I don't remember gettin' into yer pack either, or takin' the antidote that saved me."

He began pacing, thinking, "And this isn't something that Moira gave you?"

"I did'nae have time to ask her, when I visited the other side, but it does'nae feel like something was _done to me, _ye ken it? And, even if it was, why all of a sudden?"

"And you said Astrid triggered it?"

She shuffled, not wanting to put blame on the blonde, having already accused her of being Hiccup's only love.

"I think so…? I was so close to dyin', I could feel it rushin' up to meet me…grabbin' onto me and never wantin' to let go…"

He knew she was scared by the thickness of her accent.

He padded over, rubbing Toothless' head as he passed, taking her hands, "Do you know how Toothless became an Alpha?"

"Nay," she thought, "That has'nae been one of yer stories."

"Yet," he smirked and she returned it, "He was protecting me. It was the threat of being overrun, all of us dying and living under the rule of a madman that triggered something more powerful in him. I think that's what happened to you—You knew that if you died, it would have killed me and Toothless and something in you rose to protect us."

She gave him a halfhearted smile, "But…why hasn't it receded?"

"It's like Toothless' power," he chuckled, "You can't just shove it back down and pretend it's not there! You have to learn to control it, to wield it."

"Ugh," she rubbed her temples, "Between all this? No chance."

He saw her tenseness and took her shoulders in his hands, gently massaging the knots between the slats in her armor, "One day, then."

She leaned back into him, "Aye, one day. Let's just hope it does'nae get in the way or hurt anyone."

"It's not made to hurt anyone," he murmured, "It's to protect. Focus on that and we'll be done with this mess before midsummer."

She groaned, whining rather childishly, "God, do I want that!"

He couldn't help his little laugh, "And we'll have it."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. The orbs around them began to spin around them, Hiccup watching as they spun faster and faster before racing in and stopping right before touching Merida's pale skin. He gasped as her cheeks were illuminated with the phosphorescent glow of the magic, a thrumming blue incandescence surrounding them that made him sweat under his armor. One floated into her palm, like a bubble, another joining it and making it larger, then another and another until she was holding a massive globe of magical power that even he could feel. The whole area smelled like peat and moss and apples and he could even feel a gust of cool autumn wind, cooling his brow.

He waited for it to explode, to flash in in front of him, to do some great display. But that was his idea _(he was a showoff at heart) _and it merely began to shrink, sinking into her skin more and more by the moment. When it disappeared into her palms, she was completely aglow like a Flightmare. A halo of magic surrounded her, floating above her skin and surrounding both of them, every strand of hair full of magical power that almost made her curls appear a patina shade. Her eyes tipped up to his and he swallowed a shout to see that the entire thing was blue—the iris, sclera and pupil had faded to nothing but turquoise.

"Moira said something to me," she murmured and he could be imagining it, but even her voice seemed deeper, hallow, "She said there is a storm in me and I must unleash it to win this war…"

A shaky breath fell from his lips and he nodded, afraid to look away from her eyes.

"Do ye think, Hiccup…that you can withstand it, too?"

A smile crept on his face, the plummeting anxiety in his gut making him feel reckless, giddy, excited, "Princess…my dragon is the offspring of lightning and death. I've rode through more storms than you can imagine."

And, by the gods, did he love to fly through storms, dodging lightning strikes and feeling the thunderous clouds rattle his bones.

"Did ye now?"

He laughed when she kissed him, returning her attention with his own and snaking his tongue in to her mouth. She pressed her armored body against his own and he growled in annoyance at the thought of the layers between them and the want he had for her was filling him to the brim all of a sudden and he wanted nothing more than to drop her into the grass and make their claim as legitimate at it seemed to his people.

She felt like fire, she smelled like lightning and danger. His hands were hot anywhere he touched her and he wanted to feel the heat of her skin, the danger concealed under such pale, freckled flesh. It felt like rushing through a storm, like diving off cliffs, like dancing with a wild dragon—he wanted to drown in this feeling, he wanted to die with this adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Next summer, he swore—they'd have an island all to themselves, a hundred islands to be claimed through their love making.

He pulled away when he heard the approach of wings, grunting in shock and annoyance when she began to attach herself to his jaw and neck, suckling the sensitive skin there with her full mouth.

"My mom and dad are coming," he pulled away and she groaned and sagged into his grip, her massive amount of hair tickling his face and he had to crane his neck to avoid being smothered.

She finally pulled away completely and straightened her mane and armor, holding her hands out in askance. Hiccup adjusted her shoulder plates and stepped back to let her rearrange his own askew gear.

Skullcrusher and Cloudjumper landed with great gusts of wind and heavy prints left in the earth, the two dragons more antsy than Toothless and Saorsa in the sacred ring. As soon as their riders dismounted, they were cawing and back into the air, hovering over the group in obvious unease and appearing to demand their riders leave such a dangerous place.

Stoick was quick to wonder why and Valka stared up at her beloved friend, attempting to draw him back down to the ground again.

"Toothless was afraid of Merida's _seiðr _for awhile…maybe they can feel that this place is different?"

"Like Uppsala?" Stoick murmured, eyes on his dragon.

"It does'nae matter," Merida rolled her neck from side to side, popping the joints, "My parents consider them weapons—they must leave us here and we will call for them once the negotiations are over."

"Is that wise?" Valka asked.

"My parents are honorable people," she bristled, "They are stubborn and old-fashioned and sometimes rather blind, aye, but they are still honorable and will'nae have ye come to any harm while we speak on this."

Valka and Stoick shared uneasy expressions but nodded and agreed nonetheless, strapping their swords and daggers to their leather saddles. Merida and Hiccup sent their dragons off together before settling in to wait for the arrival of Fergus and Elinor. The group continued to shuffle and pace, the restlessness and uncertainty growing as the time passed.

Eventually, bustling and grumbling could be heard from the underbrush as the massive man exploded from the forrest, red-faced and furious at the inconvenience, followed by an immaculate Elinor. Hiccup watched Merida take a deep breath, steeling her nerves as she went to usher them between the stones and stand between the two couples. Hiccup rose to her side and she gave him a grateful smile, hoping that this wouldn't devolve into war, and chaos and ruin, between their peoples.

Hiccup could deny it all he wanted—the Hooligans were his tribe and he was fighting for them now, even if he didn't want to lead them.

Merida cleared her throat and clasped her hands, "I have been in conference with the Chief and Chieftess—"

"Oh, is tha' so?" Fergus spat, "What're'ye _doin'_, lass?!"

"Fergus," Elinor reached out to stop him from threatening either Merida or the other ruling couple.

"It's alright, mum," Merida sighed and stood taller and looked her father in the eye, "'Tis so!"

"This is all highly irregular," Elinor calmly added, "Why don't they speak with us directly?"

"They don't speak our language, mum," Merida couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Elinor raised one delicate brow, "Ye taught the lad there but not his parents?"

"I don't think this is a good idea," Stoick said from behind and she wheeled, "They don't want peace with us, they'd rather sell their daughter off for war!"

"They're monsters, Merida!"

"How do we know this is'nae some trick?!"

"This makes no sense—!"

"I'll not stand for anymore of this buggery—!"

"Tell us what they're sayin', son—!"

"_Shut it!" _

Merida gasped out a shocked laugh, sputtering at Hiccup who sighed and straightened his shoulders after his outburst. He gestured to Merida to speak and she chuckled, shaking her head and turning her attention back to the shocked adults.

"Once there was an ancient kingdom. That kingdom fell into war and chaos and ruin. I know how one selfish act can turn the face of a kingdom. And I know that legends are lessons, they ring with truth…"

Elinor reached for her daughters hand, crying openly at one of her favorite memories of her child—when she grew so much and proved her right to rule.

"Our kingdom is young and our stories are not yet legends," Merida continued, eyes wet with her own tears, "But in them a powerful bond was struck! The four clans were once enemies, but when invaders threatened us from the seas, they joined together to defend our lands. We fought for each other. We risked everything for each other.

The story of this kingdom is a powerful one. Da, ye rallied the Clans forces and they made ye king. It was an alliance forged in bravery and friendship and it lives to this day! But…"

She looked to Hiccup, who would stand by her no matter what.

"I tore a great rift in our kingdom…there's no one to blame but me. I know now that I need to amend my mistake and mend our bond. I've decided to do what's right…" she smiled openly at him, shaking her mothers hand from her own to take his as she fearlessly stared her parents down "And break tradition."

Elinor stared between them, realization growing on her face.

"Da," she stared at him, his desperation and hurt so clearly etched on his face that it made her voice break, "There are more invaders. There is more war. There are starvin' families and empty cribs and full graves. I've seen the horrors, I've seen death and war and ruin and we _can'nae have it._

"Hiccup's tribe, the Hooligans, they did'nae do this, they are victims also. I've helped them carry their dead, as Hiccup helped me carry ours. The people who did this are three brothers, one of which is a _cailleach,_ worst than the one that turned Mor'du and mum into bears. He roots into a dragon's mind, and nay, they are not mindless! They are beautiful creatures and he destroys them, turns them into puppets to command. He can do it with humans as well, but it must be harder 'cause I've yet to see him do such a terrible thing…"

Tears did fall from her eyes and she swallowed, hiccuping before turning back to them, unaware how both Valka and Stoick approached to offer support and comfort from behind.

"I did this," she whispered, "I could'nae save DunBroch, even though I tried! But I can save_ them_—because they saved me and they are good people, da, and—and—and because I can do this for them. And for us and the Clans! With no field-hands, with no farmers or workers, we'd _all_ starve.

"Do'nae…Don't hate me, da," she rubbed her nose on her armor, "Don't hate me for doin' what's right. _I _forged this bond—my deal was struck with the Hooligans and I _will'nae go back_ on my word."

Her father deflated, "Oh, lass…I'm sorry…The things ye've been through, the horror ye've seen. I've held on to mine, it sticks with ye," he rubbed his chest, "Deep down inside. And I brought that hate to ye about these people without knowin' them and for that, I was wrong."

Daughter and father bowed their heads in equal shame, tears on their cheeks.

"Well?" Elinor slapped his arm and he shuffled forward, Merida reaching out to be taken into his outstretched hands. Stoick rumbled a pleased sigh and Valka smiled at the sight as the smaller girl was lifted from the ground to be cradled in the embrace of her parent.

"Thank ye," Hiccup looked up to see Fergus looking down at him, "For bringin' my wee lassie home to me."

He crossed his arm over his chest in respect and bowed his head.

"Now!" Merida untangled herself with a wet laugh, face bright red, "Enough of all tha'!"

The Gaelic speaking group laughed and Stoick and Valka waited, patiently, to be involved.

"May I introduce," Merida presented her mother and father, speaking the tongue of Hiccup's people, "King Fergus of DunBroch, general of the Four Clans, survivor of the demon-bear Mor'du, and my father. And, his wife, Queen Elinor, slayer of the demon-bear Mor'du and mother to the four heirs of the Highland clans."

Stoick and Valka bowed in respect to the royal family who inclined their heads.

"And may I introduce my parents," Hiccup spoke in Gaelic to the king and queen, "Chief Stoick "the Vast" Haddock of the Hooligan tribe, heir to Grimbeard the Ghastly, slayer and rider of dragons, survivor of the Nightfury's attack! And, my mother, Chieftess Valka, first tamer and rider of dragons in the Archipelago, friend to the Bewilderbeast, and teacher of flight."

"Well, he certainly is vast, is'nae he, dear?"

"_Fergus!" _

Merida and Hiccup chuckled as the two began to speak, their children interpreting between them. Stoick and Fergus clasped arms, immediately beginning to admire the other's cloak and armor.

"He's asking if it's bear fur, dad," Hiccup supplied, glad to see them getting along.

"Oh! Well, tell him it's wolf, son!" And Hiccup obliged, both Haddock's laughing at the shocked face of the King.

"Tell her that I adore you," Valka encouraged Merida, "And ye have the soul of a dragon."

It was a nice sentiment, Merida laughed, uneasily, saying, instead, "She thinks I'm strong, mum!"

"Och, well," Elinor looked to the other woman, "That I did know."

Elinor embraced Valka and the dragon-mother returned the hug, Elinor commanding Merida to tell the other woman something.

"She says," Merida told Valka as they separated, "That yer son is brilliant and she is grateful he was there to save and protect me. Even if I did'nae need it!"

The two men began showing their weapons and armor, boasting chips in the blades and chest and shoulder plates and demanding that Hiccup explain to each about what made this chink in the metal and see that there? That was from a Devilish Dervish _(which resulted in Hiccup attempting to explain what that is) _and that scar here, that was from a great boar, nearly gut him!

"And I see we match," Fergus shouldered Hiccup, flaunting his wooden leg, the same he lost on Merida's fifth birthday. Stoick noticed as well and they shared a good laugh as the Berk Chief attempted to explain Gobber's many interchangeable parts.

Through their demanding parents, Hiccup spied Merida across the glen, laughing, half-exasperated as she tried to tell Valka something her mother had asked. On her way from looking at one woman to the next, her eyes glanced his and they locked, smiling happily at each other. The world paused its constant movement and the sun halted its descent, cradling them both in warm light that filtered the space between them with a yellow-orange glow.

To Merida, his eyes have never seemed greener, more like the forests she hid within, buried herself behind, far more at home in the bushes and trees than in the cold stone of the castle. To him, her eyes were as endless as the sky and seas themselves—he felt he could set sail on those depths, could unfurl Toothless' great wingspan in those eyes, sure to find an island full of mystical beasts.

There was no space between them.

It wasn't until Stoick had gripped Hiccup by the shoulders, shaking the boy, that the spell was broken. Stoick bellowed about how smitten he was with the princess, Hiccup attempting to make half-spun excuses that didn't enrage her father all over again. Merida turned to look into the knowing eyes of Valka and the pleasantly surprised ones of her mother, giggling helplessly at being caught staring so deeply for so long.

"Ye know," Valka muttered, "A little lie could, perhaps, become a truth."

She didn't want to explain that it nearly was already, Hiccup having admitted his feelings to her and she to him. She shrugged off the comment and collected everyone together so as to get back into important business, now that introductions were over and bonds were forming.

"Now," she put her hands on her hips, "Let's get down to business!"

* * *

The next several hours were some of the most exhausting Hiccup had ever spent. More tiresome than when they were still being besieged by dragons weekly and he would spend all night in the forge only to sleep in the soot pile by the bellows and wake up after an hour or so to get back to pounding away until supper. He would even say it was more exhausting than his first several weeks on the winds, stopping only once or twice a week, always moving and getting very little sleep between meeting and taming dragons. Merida meet his his tired gaze and he could see her sagging shoulders, her own frustration, which triggered him to stand and call and end to the meeting tonight.

Between trying to establish housing for families, homes for orphaned children, the amount of crops to be given to the castle, the amount of allotted land, religious rights and freedoms, rituals and holidays, how the dragons were to be treated, contained, maintained, intermarriages between peoples, deaths and funerals, it seemed only a few things could be managed at one time.

"We're exhausted," he explained to his parents, "We all are. We open the gates, we all find places to sleep and we can begin again in the morning."

"I'll help ye," she told her parents, after she translated for Hiccup, "Yer room was…ransacked."

Elinor nodded, looking prim and perfect, "Of course, dear."

The King and Queen of DunBroch began to march through the dark woods when Merida laughed, halting them, "Oh, no ye don't!"

Hiccup, needing no other prompting, whistled loudly for their dragons. Elinor and Fergus' eyes turned towards the sky, Cloudjumper's tawny hide and Skullcrusher's brilliant scales easily seen even in the darkness, landing heavily and making the Queen jump, her husband holding out a hand to protect her. The screech of wings made Merida roll her eyes.

"He's just like ye," she shoved her shoulder into Hiccup's, "Always showin' off."

He laughed, "Only for his lady!"

The two Nightfuries were practically invisible in the dark, the only inclination of their descent was the ever growing scream of their wings. They landed on top of two of the rock pillars across from each other, their eyes aglow, like a cat's, green and yellow from across the glen. They slithered down the rock, stalking as if to slaughter their riders before grabbing ahold of them and licking them while they attempted to get away unscathed unsuccessfully, their laughter breaking the tense silence of the rock circle.

"Ugh! Gross, save it for your girlfriend!" Hiccup laughed, groaning at the saliva on his armor, "Oh, this'll never come out…!"

Merida pulled at her hair, silvery strands of spit between her gloved fingers, "Och, speak for yerself!"

Valka and Stoick had no problems laughing on behalf of the younger couple, Elinor and Fergus understandingly nervous to see their daughter so close to a beast they've never seen tamed.

"Well?" Merida showed her family the options, "Which would ye like to ride?"

"Merida, dear," her mother began with a huff, "I will not—!"

"Oh, come on," her dear da pressured, "Where's yer sense of adventure?!"

And, very much like his triplet sons, he made his way over to the massive beast, Cloudjumper. Cooing over his dual wings, he laughed at the mischievous glint in his eyes as he extended his full wingspan to show off the many colors that speckled his tawny scales, his blood-red claws that tipped each wing glinting dangerously in the dark. He was one of the largest beasts in their arsenal and when raised to his full height, his wings could touch one stone with each claw.

"Why, I'll be…" his eyes traveled to Valka, then to Hiccup, "D'ye think he'd mind if I was on him?"

He looked back to Valka, holding his belly to reference his extra weight.

The dragon, huffing in understanding, lowered himself so that Fergus could climb aboard. Chortling and pointing, he saddled behind Valka so that she can steer, pointing and miming madly to Merida and his wife.

"Elinor! Look!"

"I see ye, dear…"

Elinor carefully approached Stoick's steed, watching his very sharp horns. She paused, however, staring into his eyes for several long beats, Skullcrusher looking back, unblinking. She knelt, slowly, extending a hand in a way that was very much the way that Hiccup established trust, but continued to watch as he approached and laid his long snout into her hand.

"Seems like Skullcrusher likes you," Hiccup supplied and she smiled up at him.

"Aye, I see a kindred spirit in him…he's a strong one, aren't ye?"

He huffed and moved so that her hand fell to a crevice in his neck plates, where Hiccup encouraged her to give him a good scratch. She did as instructed and a laugh bubbled out of her that reminded the young man very much of Merida's own giggle as the rainbow plated dragon slumped into the dirt, completely listless. Stoick laughed and said something, Merida translating for him.

"He says," she flicked her eyes at the Chief of the Hooligans, "That his dragon is a protector and he values humans that will do anythin' for those they love."

Elinor locked eyes with her daughter and stood to embrace her. She put her hand over her chest and bowed to the other man, one hand in Merida's curls, pressing her head to her shoulder.

"Thank ye," she looked to Hiccup, "Thank ye both. For all ye've done."

"Thank ye," Stoick returned, "Ye've saved us. Yer land will keep us from violence and war and it is a debt we intend to pay back."

Merida, despite her apparent flagging under such a stressful day, was buoyed by the thought that her crazy, maddened, half-formed plan might just actually _work. _She knew Hiccup was influencing her, but maybe his luck was rubbing off on her, too.

Once she was released from Elinor's grip, she helped her onto the back of Skullcrusher, who roared powerfully into the silent evening and quieting all the local animals that scurried to find safety in their dens and nests. Cloudjumper raised his monstrous dual-layered wings, kicking up grass and dirt as they leapt into the air, Fergus' whoops and cheers of excitement and thrill echoing around the glen. Elinor shook her head and waved at her daughter as Stoick urged his RumbleHorn into the sky, their ascent slightly slower due to the weight of his massive armored body.

"Don't delay too long, son!" Stoick winked at Hiccup who couldn't resist scrubbing a hand down his face and groaning loudly while Merida snorted.

Once the dust cleared and the night sky was empty of dragons and riders, Hiccup turned open palms to Merida, a wide grin stretching across his face, "So?"

She clucked her tongue, "That went _far better _than I expected."

"Right?!" He put his hands on his bent knees and let out a breathy, wheezing laugh before standing up and putting his hands on his head in gleeful shock, "Oh, bless the gods! I was afraid we'd have to pull your dad off mine!"

"If he thought ye were pokin' me like yer da does, we would've," Merida wasn't quite in the celebrating mood, hip cocked and arms crossed, but still smiling at his antics.

Hiccup paled a bit, "Oh, yeah, let's not let that happen."

"Nay, I'd hate to see Toothless mournin' over yer metal leg, lad, 'cause that's all that'd be left."

He winced but teased her, "Who, me? Nah, come on! I'm way too... muscular for that to happen! He wouldn't know what to do with all…this!" He flexed, shifting into different poses, each one more ridiculous than the next.

His mission was accomplished when she snorted and began to laugh, shaking her wild head of hair, "Oh, ye'd be the saddest pelt he'd have brought home yet."

"Pelt?"

"Oh, aye, I'll have to show ye the trophy room…" she gave him a once over, "Maybe we'll find a nice spot for your stuffed head to sit, aye?"

"Just don't let whoever fix me ruin my eyes," he gave her a wide, comic stare and she began to laugh again as he advanced, wrapping his hands around her waist and spinning her, "Y'know, the terrible fake ones?"

"Aye, shut yer gob, ye daffy!" She chortled and pushed at him weakly as he dipped her, kissing her still-laughing mouth.

"We should go," she murmured against him and he hummed in agreement.

It wasn't after about ten minutes of thoroughly enjoying each other that one of their dragons seemed to growl and huff, having gotten tired of waiting. Hiccup pulled away from Merida's lips and glared at his Nightfury, who was glaring back just as strongly.

"Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile," he muttered, rolling his eyes as Toothless mocked him, getting up on his hind legs and waving his forelegs, warbling and murmuring as if speaking like his rider. Merida laughed again and the female joined in with husky, wheezy hisses that was her chuckling.

"We need to follow," she pushed his hair away from his eyes before tugging playfully on one of his tiny braids, noticing how long it had grown just in a few weeks, "We're surely missed. Best not leave it to yer da to try to explain just where we are," she danced out of his reaching hands and straddled her still snorting dragon.

"Or I really will be pinned to the wall," he swallowed, getting on his own dragon.

"Aye," she winked and strapped her helmet on, muffling her voice so he almost missed what she said after, "And don'ye actually want to _have me_ before ye suffer for it?"

She was in the air and he was gaping while his dragon danced under him, tongue lolling at the prospect of a chase. With little prompting, Toothless shot into the air and followed at a breakneck pace, their laughter echoing with the scream of the Nightfury's wings.

* * *

They returned to an all-out, knuckles-bared brawl. From above, the gates had been opened and Fergus and Elinor, along with Valka and Stoick, were attempting to wrestle their people to put down their arms. Stoick was protecting Elinor, prompting the Scotts to attack in the honor of the queen—Merida could see the pale heads of the McGuffin Clan leading the attack—while Valka and Fergus were working well together to break up different groups, her father's bulk plowing through Vikings and Scotts alike, Cloudjumper spitting and hissing from above.

Hiccup was glad to see that the dragons were all away—either in the sky or removed from the scene, sometimes spitting and hissing and cawing in rage, but not participating in any form of fighting.

"Oh, for—how many fires do we have to put out in one Thor-forsaken day?!" Hiccup yelled and Merida sighed.

"Darlin'," she muttered to her dragon, "Let's quiet them down, shall we?"

Both dragons began to glow, their mouths full of dangerous plasma bolts. They shot two rounds of weak blasts that scattered both armies and sent shockwaves throughout the earth, many falling and scrambling as they swooped like massive bats.

"Nightfury! _Get down!"_

"I mean, seriously?!" Hiccup yelled, dismounting and grumbling to himself, _"Who_ is still worried about Toothless?!"

"Easy, lad," Merida patted him on the shoulder as she stood over the two peoples, hands on her hips, facing their peoples with a disappointed glower, "Now! That's all _done_! Ye've had yer go at each other! Show a little decorum! And no more fighting!"

There was suddenly more yelling and fighting in the back of the group, making Merida groan and yell, jumping into the fray herself, beating and clashing while Hiccup stood with his head in his hands. The brawl began in full force again, the crack of metal against metal and shouts of fury and desperate attempts to stop them were pitifully drowned out by the yelling.

Hiccup, flanked by the dragons, stepped into the fighting and watched as the armies quieted their hate filled violence, stepping aside and cowering at the force of the two Nightfuries, who were spitting and growling with brightly lit mouths, snapping their dulled teeth at any who dared approach the young ex-Viking.

When he found Merida, he crossed his arms and shook his head. She had flipped a scrawny young man onto his back, sword waving madly in the air as she was bodily lifted by a larger boy who was avoiding her swings. The dark haired one was nursing a broken nose, blood gushing down his bared chest, and Hiccup saw one soldier, also his age, scrambling away from the two dragons, seeming to hyperventilate with wide, glazed blue eyes.

"I swear unto ye, Lachlan, I will _gut ye—!" _

Hiccup cleared his throat and she turned her furious gaze towards him and he tilted his head to her with a raised brow.

"Are you done?"

She sputtered, face bright red and hair completely askew and knotted even more from her flight and the sticky Nightfury saliva.

"He started it, Hiccup!"

"Of that I have no doubt," he rolled his eyes and looked to the blond man who reminded him painfully of Fishlegs, "Can you put her down?"

But, unlike Fishlegs, this guy didn't cower under him. He glared at Hiccup, his grip tightening around the princess until she yelped and dropped the blade she was swinging so haphazardly, before being securely placed behind the larger boy. His eyes were the same shade and temperature as a glacier, cutting Hiccup to the bone with his obvious hatred of him. It was so apparent, the loathing that radiated from him, that Saorsa and Toothless both lowered and growled deeper, the snapping of electricity tapping along their scales and between their teeth.

"Leave, Viking," he spat, "Or I _swear_—!"

"Ian!" Merida's hands were smacking his back and shoulders, pushing her way around him, "Ye stop that, lad!"

His eyes widened, hurt and he shuffled back to let her pass, hands coming together as if pleading, "Of course, Merida…"

Hiccup felt a bit of laughter rise up in him but he squashed it, oddly annoyed with the meekness that this beastly lad Ian was showing around Merida. He was besotted, that was more than obvious, and he scoffed as his fists clenched, eyeing the way he muttered and kowtowed to the angry Terrible Terror that Merida seemed to be, surrounded by so many taller, larger males.

_'__Terror or no,' _he gave her a tired look and she rolled her eyes, _'She'll still claw your eyes out if you give her the chance…'_

"Feel better?" He asked as she rolled her shoulder.

She stuck her tongue out, "I just might, thank ye very much!"

She cleared her throat and looked on to the rabble, "So…! Here we all are…for, erm…"

She flailed, suddenly, before her people. She was sure in front of the Vikings, her mistakes unknown to them and felt more sure of herself, not having to hide what her people considered to be more masculine traits. Yes, the Berkians were rude and loud and invasive, but so was she—she was a better Viking than she ever was a princess and she flailed, looking to Hiccup in a strange panic.

He stood on the head of his dragon, apologizing lowly and keeping most of his weight in his one foot so as not to bother Toothless too much. He raised his head and shoulders so that Hiccup stood above the lot and he cleared his throat.

"Now, where were we? Right! In accordance with our laws and by the rights of our heritage, we have come to a peaceful agreement that will suit both parties well. But, to do so, we must act with respect and understanding to both peoples."

Merida hopped up and began to speak, he noticed in whatever language he wasn't—he couldn't really tell which dialect he was using at the moment. She flashed him a happy glance from atop her own Nightfury, blue and yellow meeting a matching pair of green.

"So! Until everything can be handled directly, we'll be a bit on top of one another—if you have found a suitable place to sleep, go now and open your homes to those that do not have them. We all know what it's like to be without a roof over our heads and empty bellies after harsh campaigns."

He paused to let Merida translate, admiring the curve of her jawline as she spoke.

"There is going to be a rough and dirty adjustment period," he ignored Merida's snort, "So I encourage you all to introduce yourselves and your dragons! We must make an effort for peace because, despite our claim, this is their land and we must be grateful!"

There was some annoyed murmurings form the Berk tribe and Hiccup glowered, "We must appreciate the effort that is being made and reciprocate in kind. Share our bread and our wine, attempt to connect despite the differences in language and culture and custom. We are all people—no matter where we hail from or the banners we fly under!"

Merida was giving him an odd, melty look that made him nearly fall off Toothless' head, making the dragon yap and mutter in annoyance when his sharp metal prosthesis dug into the soft planes of round skull.

"A bond has been struck between our peoples," he looked to her and offered his hand, which she took without hesitation, careless of what it may have signified, reiterating some of her speech from before, "This story is a powerful one! When invaders came from the north, we came together not as enemies, but as friends in a time of need! We will risk our lives for each other and, one day, this story will become legend to all those that come after us! They will sing the epic of us and our trials!"

When Merida finished there were no cheers of gratitude but strong, steely resolve. The Vikings lowered their weapons and the Scotsmen followed, trepidation and wariness in their eyes. They stared at each other and their leaders, Stoick leading Elinor through the throng, everyone bowing in respect to both royal parties. Valka and Fergus stomped forward as well, aggravation evident in each step.

"Now off with ye!" Fergus hollered, "Go home and to yer beds!"

"And if they're full of Vikings?" Lord McGuffin appeared, eyes sharp from under his blond fringe.

"Learn to share," the king snapped and turned, his dark cape swinging behind him as the two royal families entered into the castle. The throne room was still a wreck and Merida watched as her mother's hands fluttered over her chest in shock, turning to see the axe and sword marks that splintered her throne, the delicate carvings completely ruined. The tapestries of their families had been torn down and left in heaps, the threads pulled and loosened and their images ruined. The Hooligans had done their own damage, having roasted a pig on a spit the night before, tables righted but benches overturned, dirty plates and utensils scattered over every surface.

"Oh, dear…oh, my Lord…"

"It's alright, mum," Merida pulled her along, "We'll sort it all out tomorrow, alright?"

The princess was glad there was no blood on the stairs that led up towards many rooms. Luckily, during her stay here with Hiccup, they had found that most of the upper stories remained untouched. The wine cellar had been as decimated as the kitchen and the hall, along with the lower levels of the castle. Their parents fell into rooms across from each other and Merida did not bother to ask where Stoick and Valka had been the night before and why they suddenly felt the need to sleep in her home now, stomping out her annoyance with a tired sigh.

"Merida…" Her mother bundled her into her arms again and her father loomed over them both, eyes tired and sad, "Stay with us tonight."

She shook her head, "Och, mum! I'll be right here in the mornin', just as always. Da would likely crush me in his sleep if ye did not smother me!"

She sighed, "Alright…but…" her gaze fell to Hiccup, who was saying goodnight to his own parents. Merida listened, briefly, as he asked his mother if she was alright being left alone with Stoick and wondered again what he had done to risk the relationship, "Ye're not…?"

"No, mum, no," she took her hands, lying right through her teeth and praying she wasn't obvious as a lark, "We're…friends."

"Just friends?"

"Aye, 'tis so."

"Alright," she nodded, "Just that ye remember…ye are a princess and have _expectations _to uphold."

Merida felt her jaw clench, teeth grinding as she nodded, saying nothing.

"And, well, with all this," her mother waved a hand to the castle, "The lords will surely want to pressure ye again—"

"I thought we covered that," Merida hissed, under her breath, "I thought we got to _choose._"

"Aye, lass," Elinor held out a palm, "I'll pacify them while I can—but a decision has to be made." Her eyes found Hiccup's figure again, "Between the three Lairds' sons."

"I-I—what?"

"Merida," her mother scoffed, "Ye did not honestly think that ye could have whomever ye wanted? Ye must choose between the three sons, those are yer options. Really, lass, the head on ye, d'ye think a stable hand would be accepted on the throne? Or—?"

"Or _what_, mum?"

"Or—_well_…"

Merida bit the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes to stop herself from starting an argument. There was no point, she told herself—she wouldn't be here to marry one of the Lords' sons. One of two things would come to be in the near future: either she'd live to see a thousand sunsets on the back of her dragon, traveling the world with the man she'd come to love or she'd die in battle against the terror that was attempting to consume everything and anything in their path.

She hoped for the first.

But she'd be lying if she wasn't betting on the last.

"This is a topic for another day," Merida pulled away from her mother's grasp, hearing her father admonish her gruffly about pushing her away with suck talk, stomping down the corridor with purpose. She found the room she had shared with Hiccup the night before and stripped her armor off, sitting only in her underdress as she finger combed her hair with a swift, practiced ease. Her mind was turning another plan over, the gears grinding down her embarrassment like a grain mill.

Hiccup would come.

And, when he did, she would make sure that everyone—her family included—knew there would be no separation between them until death reached up and took her from this world.

* * *

**Chapter 13, complete.**


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Tradition

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD. _**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Tradition

Hiccup didn't expect her to be in the room they'd previously shared—her parents were here now and he believed she would rather sleep alone and not dare endanger their relationship being found out. But she was there, combing out her hair which she must had spent some time on, damp patches an indication where she struggled to get the incredibly tacky Nightfury spit from the curls. She didn't look at him when he entered or when he gave her a shocked greeting, still yanking her bone comb with rough, angry movements that made him wince in sympathy.

"Um…"

She stood, placing the comb on the table with a loud _'thack!'_ staring at him from across the room. Her gaze worried him, the extreme concentration, brows lowered and pinched, mouth a firm, angry line. It was an odd thing—her severe look combined with her light nightgown was an odd juxtaposition. She stomped to him, a yelp being pulled from him when she began to yank on the belts that held his armor on.

"Lie with me," she spat, throwing him with the force of her pulling, "Tonight, now!"

"W-woah! Merida, hold on!" Grabbing at her hands, he tried to pause her ministrations with little success.

_'__Damn it, she's so quick!'_

His shoulder plates fell to the ground, making him jump. His cuirass was off next, thrown next to them.

She began to press her mouth to his and he kept pushing her away, calling her name in a quiet, panicked whisper.

"Stop! St-stop it!" He pushed her away, finally, both of them heaving, "Merida, what in Thor's name is going on?!"

"I need ye," she tried blinking up at him with false coquettishness and he rolled his eyes, "Please, Hiccup!"

"Merida," she latched on to his throat and his breath left him in a _whoosh_ like he'd been hit in the gut, "Stop!"

She glowered at him, eyes wet with displeasure, "Do ye not want me, then?!"

"Oh, for—! Merida, of _course _I want you! I've wanted you long before I even _liked _you."

She scoffed and crossed her arms, "Then, why reject me?"

"_Be-because _I like you!"

She raised a brow, "If ye _like me _so much, then bed me."

"Merida," he pulled at his hair, "Not that I would ever want to reject you, ever, but this-this-this isn't normal! Not for you! I mean, sure, you're always a bit aggressive, but this—!"

"Ye just gestured to all of me."

"Ye-ah!" She was upon him again, nearly undoing the belt loops that held the thigh-plates on his legs before he knocked her back again.

"Merida, what is going on? Tell me, _now_, or you can—you can just leave."

She looked hurt for a moment, then glared and barred her teeth.

"Fine! I'll just go and get Ian McGuffin or Lachlan MacIntosh to—!"

He was crushing her mouth against his, pinning her arms above her head and walking their bodies against the nearest wall. Perhaps it was all him, perhaps it was a bit of his dragon-blood that made him so angry at the thought that she would even dare go to one of her "suitors." She panted against him and thrust her hips to his, making him hiss in pleasure and push her harder against the cool stone of their shared bedroom. Kissing her felt like swallowing sparks, like welding iron, like grinding steel—heat and warmth jumped through his blood and he believed, maybe, even he could shoot dragon-fire if she kept her mouth on his. She raised one leg to loop around his calf and pull him forward even harder and his chest felt like it would explode, smoke billowing from his nostrils and flames from his mouth from the heat they stoked between them.

In the dark, he could see the metal pendant glint around her neck and he yanked away, both of them panting as he put distance between them.

"Hicc—!" She steadied herself, "I need ye to do this…"

"No," he pulled at his hair again, pacing, "No, you don't get to do this. You can't just—just command me and expect me to follow orders. Is that what I am, Your Highness?"

He looked to find her face stricken, "Nay…"

"We're equals, right? We're the same?"

She nodded, hands fisting in her thin nightgown, "Aye, of course…"

"Because I won't be controlled, Merida…unless you want to compel me."

Her hand whipped out and she threw the pitcher at him, his quick reflexes allowing him to just barely catch it from crashing against his skull, slipping twice before getting a firm grip on it.

"How dare ye! I would never!" She spat.

"Alright! Fine," he put the ceramic on the floor, hands out and open, placating, calming.

_'__Just like a dragon…' _He sighed as she deflated, even her hair seeming to fall under his assessing gaze.

"Hiccup…My mum…"

She sat on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands, suddenly seeming much smaller and younger than he thought her to be, as if without her armor she was truly defenseless.

"She was already talkin' 'bout marryin' me off to one of the boys," her words were muffled by her fingers and he sat beside her in order to hear, "She says this will push them to make sure I have _protection _should somethin' like this happen again."

"Okay…and, so…all this was…?"

"Och," she raised a flushed face to his, biting her lip, "Do I really have to spell it out for ye?"

He shrugged one shoulder.

"If I were to flaunt my _loss_ to my family, I could claim that…well, I'd be a fallen woman, see, and none of the lads would be willin' to take me and I could do as I wanted…"

"Your…loss?"

She seemed to turn darker, shaking her head, "Aye…"

"Of…?"

She hit him with a pillow and a shocked laugh burst from him, "My maidenhood, ye fool!"

His brow furrowed, "So…how…wait, wait, wait…"

He stood and looked at her, eyes comically wide.

"You're not allowed to _have_ anyone before you're married?"

"No!" She sputtered, "Of course not!"

"At all?"

"No," she blinked, "If I was found out I could've been cast out or worse, married off to hide the scandal. Hel," she rolled blue eyes, not noticing she had picked up on one of his colloquialisms, "If my mum ever knew I had even kissed ye we would never be in the same room alone."

"So…you've never…erm…" he blushed, "Never been with a man?"

She raised her chin, "Nay, I haven't. I'm expected to fly bloody sheets on my wedding night."

"Ugh," he flinched, "That's terrible. Why would you bleed?"

She tipped her head to him, "Isn't that…what…Look, I don't know! Okay? I don't!"

"Well, in my experience," he knew his smirk was far too smug, "You shouldn't bleed."

If it was possible, she matched her hair even more and he chuckled. Just a few moments ago she was trying to rip his clothes off and now she was bright red at the technical talk of sex. She hit him with the pillow again, grumbling about Viking customs being far too flippant for her liking. He took hold of her hands and guided her to his lap, straddling him. He trailed his finger along the curve of her cheek, the stubborn set of her jaw, down her throat to the opening of her shift. He slipped it off one shoulder, her breath hitching and he stared into her eyes as he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses along her bespeckled shoulder.

"I want you," he raised her hand to his mouth, kissing along her fingertips, "Hel, Merida, I want you all the time…but I'm not going to fuck you—" she gasped a little at his terminology, "—Because you want to blame your leaving on me."

She snarled, "Then, what? Ye'll let me be wedded off to one of those simpletons—?!"

He grabbed her and flattened her along the bed, his green eyes, so dark they seemed black in the night, glaring down at her.

"Don't even think that."

"Don't like the thought, do ye?" She gave a simpering smile, "Ye don't want to think about big ol' Ian MacGuffin on top of me, ruttin' with me like an animal or Lachlan MacIntosh—!"

He was kissing her to shut her up, which is exactly what she wanted. She raised her hips to his and he ground down against her, despite not wanting to give her the satisfaction of riling him so easily.

"Brat!" He spat, pulling away.

She pushed him back to straddle him again, her face full and bright, victory giving her a gorgeous tinge.

"Tell me, O' Mighty Dragon-Rider," she gave him a grin that made him gasp, her body sliding over his, "D'ye think ye can tame me?"

He couldn't help but laugh at how terrible a line it was and her pout soon became snorting of her own, acknowledging just how horrid she was at playing this particular type of game. His hands were warm on her hips and she sighed against him, leaning on his shoulder, feeling his chest rise and fall.

"I want ye," she whispered, "'Cause I love ye, but…I was goin' to use ye and, for that, I'm sorry, lad."

He chuckled, hands in her hair, "Oh, I think we'd be using each other."

"I just…ugh! Hiccup, I want to be free!" Her hand slapped the bed, "I want to ride, I want to fly, go chasin' the wind and touchin' the sky! Because I_ can_ now! I want to go off firin' arrows into the sunset! I'm not—I'm not ready to sign my life away! I thought I'd be ready one day but I don't think I'll ever be ready!"

He hummed in agreement while she ranted, uncaring of her words and focusing instead on how soft she felt against him.

"But I won't use ye," she sat up, making him gasp with the roll of her hips against his and giving him a wicked smile, "Unless ye want me to, that is."

"I do," he stuttered, "Gods, I do but not like this. We'll have—ah! Easy!" She apologized as she slid off him, chuckling while he sat up with a wince, "We'll have a million islands to see, thousands of dragons meet. We have _time_, Merida."

He caressed her cheek and she pressed her hand against his, cradling him while held her.

"We have time," he muttered, "Plenty of it, and tons of world to witness. Don't rush because you're scared. You said I make you brave right?"

She nodded against his grip, "Aye."

"Then we'll be brave. For each other."

She nodded again.

"And don't talk about those stupid fools," she gave a delighted laugh when he gripped her hair hard and yanked her a hairsbreadth from his mouth, "Ever again or I will be forced to make sure you forget their names."

"I barely know their names anyway," she rolled her eyes and he kissed her gently on the mouth, then her nose, forehead and then her crown, pulling her into his grip.

"Remember what you said to me when I thought my dad would insist on a wedding?"

"There's no time," she muttered, "Between it all."

"Right. And that was _before_ your dad and his army showed up."

She hummed, unconvinced.

"Listen," her neck craned to lock eyes with him, "We're not staying. It doesn't matter. _None of this _matters. We save them, then we leave. That's the bottom line, right?"

Her eyes shone with determination, "Right."

"So if they start with the whole 'betrothal' issue, let them. Nod, agree, smile and be led—and know that after we slaughter the brothers and their army, I'll be waiting with our bags packed and we'll set off against the great ocean. We can come back in a month, six months, years, never, I don't care. As long as you're beside me."

She nodded, expression tired and open and raw. It was odd to see her so bereft. She was so vibrant, so bright, so determined that he often forgot just what she was hiding under all her fire. She was softer than she let on, all her spitting and hissing just a way to keep others at a distance. He remembered that she had little experience with other people her age and was never denied—and as much as he liked to compare her, she wasn't any more draconian than he was. She was all soft flesh and fragile bone, just with the addition of her powerful magic.

He kissed her deeply, pulling her to lie beside him.

"Let me take my leg off," she snorted at his wording and he rolled his eyes, "And we need to sleep. Tomorrow will be long."

"Ugh," she hid in his shoulder, "Everyday is long now."

"True," he dropped pecks across her cheeks and eyelids, mimicking her smile as he pulled from her reaching grip, "But that's only temporary."

"Aye," her lids stayed closed, her breathing even, "Just for now…"

When he snuck back into bed, she was already asleep.

* * *

They woke to screaming and hollering, stumbling out of bed and blinking sleep from their eyes to throw on their clothes (and metallic extremities) and run out into the halls, searching blindly for whatever the ruckus was. They found the king trapped in a net and strung up from the ceiling, Elinor and Stoick and Valka all hurrying to the same spot.

"Oh, Thor…" Merida and Hiccup shared the same horrorstricken look.

"The twins!" The said in unison, looking as the king flashed the entire group more than they ever needed to see. There was a collection of groans as people covered their eyes, muttering under their breath about how lacking the kilt was in coverage.

"Ugh," Hiccup raised a palm to his and Merida's eyes as she gagged, "Things I wish I could forget."

Elinor was fluttering by the net, trying to find a way to get her husband loose.

"_Loki'd!" _There was more hollering and crashing as the blonde demons went rushing around, holding their hands aloft in mutual enjoyment of their collective chaos.

"Oh, dear Thor," Merida muttered and Hiccup copied her sentiment.

"You did this," he reminded her and she buried her face in her hands, "You unleashed them, you cannot blame anyone but yourself."

"I know!"

"Will someone cut the man loose?!" Stoick shouted with his own eyes covered.

"Oh, for—!" Merida took the offered axe from Stoick and flung it with as much precision as her arrows, hitting the rope and the wall with a loud _'clang!' _Followed by Fergus' shout of terror as he dropped to the floor and growled as he righted his kilt.

The awkward silence stretched between the six men and women gathered in the tight hallway, Hiccup huffing and sputtering as he looked away, his father rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Well! This is as a good time as any to get right back to negotiations," Hiccup clapped his hands, rubbing them together as he and Merida marched to the library, snickering lowly in equal parts embarrassment and genuine mirth.

There was a few awkward moments between them, but luckily, Elinor was used to smoothing over the problems caused by her husband. It was turning out to be an equally exhausting day when Merida stood, her eyes trained to the brick walls, her brow furrowed. Her parents and his watched her pace with equal fascination and worry, her body language seeming to express her stress and anxiety.

"Hiccup," she muttered, "I think…somethin' is comin'."

He stood, "Alright."

"I-I can'nae tell," she held her temples, "Och, my head's spinnin' like a top…"

He grabbed her elbows, steering her to sit back again. Her mother babbled and took her face in her hands, making Merida mutter and wave her away.

"Somethin'…"

She gasped, eyes ablaze and her mother screamed and backed away into her husbands grip, who gave a sharp cry of his daughter's name. Hiccup winced as Merida trembled and spasmed, head thrown back as she growled in a tongue as ancient as dragons.

She collapsed and Hiccup swore he stopped breathing.

* * *

Merida was pulled, her chest caving as if being crushed—she knew this feeling, this call, was beyond the veil of what was living and dead. She spun, the world twisting without stopping, before landing on her knees on the deck of a ship. She swallowed a gag as she stood on shaking legs, spinning herself in search of whoever or whatever dared to call her here.

"Ah! There you are!"

She rounded to the center, seeing the ship tilt as if they were truly at see and she lurched forward, keeping her footing just barely to see the boy that had so much power. He hadn't just called—he had knocked on the door and she was forced to answer, he had found her and all those she was protecting.

She had failed them.

_Again. _

Grinding her teeth to dust, she righted herself with hands ablaze. She will cut him down here and now and end this once and for all!

"Ah-ah," he tipped a finger at her and she couldn't stop her feet from moving forward, bending, taking a seat by his side, "Isn't that better, my dear?"

"What did ye do to me?!"

"Why, I called you here to talk!" His grin was too wide for his face, his wide, pale eyes making him seem even more inhuman, "That's what my brothers said to do—you can't marry a girl you haven't spoken to. So, here we are! Speaking!"

He looked utterly too pleased with himself.

How old was this kid, Merida wondered, looking him over. His hair was messy, greasy and unwashed, his face smeared with food that was days old which made sense if he truly couldn't see it. He looked like her wee brothers, just a bit more grown up, but he had all the power to manipulate the world around him like a god.

"What's your name?" He chirruped, blinking and she tried not to wince at him.

"Merida," she answered, automatically, "Of Clan Dun'Broch."

"Merrrr-rida," he drew it out, "_Mer_ida, Mer_ida_, Merid_aaaaa_, Me_ri_da!"

"Aye, aye!" She held up her hands, exasperation rising, "That's me, ye got it!"

"I'm Ivar," he wiggled in his seat, "You should know it, I'll be your husband soon."

She scoffed a bit, "Oh, really now? And how old are ye, Ivar?"

"I'll be fourteen years this summer," his chest puffed with bride, "I'm a man now."

"Och," she stifled laughter, not sure what he would do, "And what if I told ye I was already married?"

His expression shifted from childlike to madman in an instant, the boat rocking violently against a sudden wind and storm clouds collecting over head. Her hair whipped across her face and she gasped, bracing herself against the wind, looking to see his blank stare completely immobile.

"Are you?"

"What?!"

"Are you married?"

"No! No, I'm not!"

Just as fast as it came it was gone, replaced by sunny skies and puffy, white clouds that drifted by. Merida gasped, realizing that everything was too _right_—the sun was too pale, white gold and the sky was far, far too blue and the clouds too cottony. It was so phony that it couldn't be real and she sucked in a shuddering breath as she watched the demon child that sat before her.

"Good," he smiled again before frowning, "Do my eyes bother you?"

"Eh…no," she lied, "They're…fine…"

He blinked and tipped his head before blinking again and facing her with gold-brown irises.

"Better?"

"Erm…"

"I know it's odd," he shrugged, "My mother offered my eyes to the gods and in return I got my magic. How did you get yours?"

"I-I…I was taught," she attempted to answer him without giving him too much, "Ivar…where are we?"

"Oh, the in-between," he said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, "I can't see you in the normal world, but I can see you here. You're very pretty," he gave a little giggle and blushed and Merida swallowed a mouthful of bile.

"The in-between?" She would try to turn the tides, "How do ye get here?"

He shrugged, "You open the door, I just showed you, jeez," he rolled his now tawny eyes, "You don't pay much attention, huh? No wonder someone had to show you everything."

"Ye weren't, then? Ye must be very clever to figure all this out on yer own…"

He beamed with pride, "Of course! My brothers say I'm the cleverest of us by far!"

She gave him a stilted grin, "I bet! But how do you go back?"

He frowned again, "Why? Do you want to leave?"

"Oh, no, no!" Her chest was too tight, "Just so I know for later, ye ken?"

His lips twisted, "I'll send you away when we're done. Unless you're smart enough to find your own way."

"O-okay, but my friends are worried about me, surely…"

"I don't care!" He pouted, "You're with me right now! So think about me!"

Was he this childish before? He didn't seem it. Her mind raced to the boy she had shot with her arrow, hoping to pin him in the chest but getting him in the shoulder instead. She knew she didn't hit him when he went down, his dragon in tatters because of Saorsa's blasts, but she didn't recall him being like _this. _

But she didn't know the language then. Hiccup said he just kept repeating things, asking why he couldn't see her.

"So ye can see in this realm?"

He shrugged, looking out over a too calm sea, like the ship was sitting on glass, "I can see in the other realms too…just not you. Why is that?"

She answered as honest as she could, "I don't know…perhaps I'm very good at hiding."

"But why hide from me? I want to see you."

"You can see me here, now," she placated, "This can be our special place."

He hummed, "I like that. How old are you?"

"Twenty-one," she kept her arms crossed, a barrier between them, "A wee bit older than ye are."

"No matter," he shrugged, "I would like our children to have your hair, please."

Was that a request? "I don't think that's how that works…"

"For us, things work differently," he stood, "We make the world the way we want it."

"But that has repercussions, ye ken that, right? We cannot force the world to bow to us just 'cause we have magic."

He tipped his head to her and even now he did not seem truly human, irises or no.

"I haven't seen them yet," his voice was ominous, "Perhaps your teacher just wanted to…stunt you, in that way."

She stood and was able to see her height in comparison to his. He was scrawny and weak, she could cleave his skull in two with a good axe swing. A part of her mourned the loss of humanity that came with that thought, but the other part of her was nothing but hard resolve.

"How can ye see if ye are blind?"

"I can't see things in the normal world the way you do," he scoffed, "It's…different. I see things that live…mostly smarter things, bigger things, like dragons and people but I see animals, too. The energy they have makes a form of sorts, something I can track and find should I want to. Dogs and cats mainly and, if I pay attention, birds. But they're just…there, you know, not really something I want."

She swallowed, "Ye…_want?"_

"Yeah," he quipped, "You know, something that I want to use. Dragons are best to use, they die really nicely once I'm done with them, too."

Her breath escaped her in a wheeze as she leaned against the deck of the ship, everything spinning.

"I like to feel them die, because we can't."

"Everything dies," she snarled, "Ye will as well."

He laughed at her, the little snot—he dared to laugh.

"I'm part god," he shot her a look of pure adolescent snobbery, "I can't die."

"Even yer gods die, don't they?" She remembered Hiccup's stories, "Thor and Odin and many others die at Ragnarok."

"Well, yeah," he said it in a way that seemed to find her dull, "But that's when _everything _dies. That's just to be expected."

"Did yer brothers tell ye this?"

"Of course and my mom."

"Yer mum?"

"Yeah," he turned back to her, "She died when I was fairly young but she told me I would own this world. And my big brothers helped me do it."

"Ye never thought," she licked her lips, thinking, "Ye never believed they were doin' it for their own gain?"

"It's for us all," he smiled at her, sickly, "For you, too. We'll need somewhere to raise our sons."

She shivered involuntarily at the thought of lying beneath the wee beast.

"Do you not like this realm? I tried to make it pretty," he huffed, "But it's still not right. Maybe you can fix it?"

"No," she shook her head, "I just want to go back."

"Why? You can stay here with me, we can talk more."

"Ladies don't always want to talk," she swallowed, "Sometimes we just…like to be alone."

"Oh…" his illusion dropped and shot her with his opalescent eyes, "But I want to talk more."

"Fine!" She spat, her ire flashing, "Tell me something, tell me why ye feel the need to wipe the minds of all the creatures ye take?!"

He laughed, "You're funny!"

She saw red and she reached out, grabbing him by the collar of his dirty tunic and shaking him.

"_Ye monstrous little shit,_" she snarled, "Why do ye slaughter what ye can'nae take?"

"Why not?" He still laughed and she dropped him as if he burned.

"I mean, if they're still inside it makes them harder to control so I just…I take them out."

Merida couldn't suppress her gagging and she held her hand to her mouth.

Demonic. He wasn't human.

No, a part of her stopped her thoughts. He was the stunted one. He was like the triplets, yes, because he lacked empathy. She and her parents had to grind that into her wee brothers, their youth making them forget that others had thoughts, feelings, beliefs—they struggled to comprehend these things but they regretted what they did once they finally grasped the concept. No one had every made this child see that his actions had consequences, he was told the world was his, that he could do as he pleased without having to answer to anyone and, with his power, he never did.

"Send me back," she croaked, "I want to go home."

"When will we meet for real?" He asked, taking her clammy hand in his.

"Never," she growled, "I hope we never see each other again."

He frowned, "I don't like that. I know where you are now, since I found you. I bet we can be there in a week or so. How does that sound? Then we can plan our wedding!"

She pulled away with a cry of rage, "D'ye not listen, lad?! I will never marry ye, I will never touch ye, I will put an end to yer horrors! I swear unto ye!"

He seemed to understand she was upset but didn't know why or what had caused it.

"Do you not like that I kill the dragons? I won't hurt the Nightfury—I kept her intact because she was so strong but I meant what I said, you can keep her, as a gift. And I won't kill the dragons anymore if that makes you happy. I want you to be happy."

"Ye destroyed my home," she hated how her voice quaked, "Ye killed my people…"

He sighed, "Well, yeah, but I didn't know it was you, then. Once we make babies, you'll feel better."

She wanted to pull her own eyes out, he was more frustrating than Lachlan MacIntosh.

Grinding her palms into her sockets, she focused.

Hiccup.

Where was he?

He was out there in the world somewhere, waiting by her body, wanting her back.

She reached deep within in her, magic rushing to her fingers, banishing the cold sickness that threatened to overtake. Swallowing deep lungfuls of air, she reached out with hands that were not made of flesh and bone, but magic—searching for the one person who was always there, always waiting to pull her back.

She knew him in any form, on the back of his dragon or asleep in a glen. He was like lightning contained, matched by their brilliant dragons. He was warm and pulsing next to her cold body, appearing half dead.

She had found her own door.

"Good job," he smiled at her, genuinely pleased, "A week or so, okay? Bye!"

And, with a push of her own magic away from the ship, she flew from his made-up world and landed back into her body with a cough and a wheeze, shouts of concern and shock filling her buzzing ears. Hiccup was there, just as she knew he would be, and she blinked at him, exhausted.

"It was ye," she murmured, "It was ye who brought me back…"

He slumped against her hair and they lay on the library floor, uncaring of their parents fluttering around them. He intertwined their fingers, sighing in relief to find her blue eyes looking into his green.

"He's a madman, Hiccup," she muttered, ignoring the pull of her mother on her arm.

His brow furrowed as he was bodily pulled away from her.

"He's a madman," she mouthed as he was whisked away.

* * *

"Son," Stoick took his only child by the shoulder, "This is more difficult than I foresaw…It's a treacherous landscape, ye know?"

Hiccup nodded, not paying attention.

"We don't have the resources at the moment for a proper gift to this lass of yers. She's a high ranking noble. If we were still on Berk and doing well like we had been…well, we could have probably just scraped together enough to offer her family, but now…I just don't think it can be properly arranged."

"I-Wait, what?"

"Son," Stoick sighed, "Ye are the heir to a village with no property or coffers. The lass will be likely wed to one of the powerful families around her. I'm sorry…If I could give ye all the money on Berk, I would. I know ye love her."

"I—Dad, please, don't…don't say stuff like that," Hiccup went back to pacing, "It doesn't matter."

"Ye don't love her?"

"I do," he nodded, remembering his own advice to Merida, "She's spirited. She'll choose who she wants."

"Son—Hiccup, look at me," he stopped his child and stared into his eyes, expression grim, "That's not…that's not how they treat women here. She's not like Astrid, she can't be _free._ They're like cattle. They don't have _rights._"

He knew that, it was obvious from how Merida spoke before.

"Yer father is right, boy-o," Gobber muttered into his drink, rubbing his aching brow, "The lass belongs to the king. Whoever he wants her to wed, she will and bear his brats to boot."

"St-stop it!" He wheeled, "Merida will fight them. She's not going to just-just-just lie back and take whatever fool climbs on top of her! She's defied them already, she'll defy them again!"

"And lose her kingdom and family all over? Hiccup," Gobber sighed, "Be reasonable, son. There are plenty of young girls in the world. Ye loved Astrid once and now ye love this lass—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Hiccup weakly threatened, pointing a finger limply at him, "Don't. Do not."

"—Ye'll get over her," Gobber ignored him and dodged the furiously thrown tankard that flew his way. Stoick gasped, admonishing the rashness of his child and attempted to restrain him, but Hiccup pulled a dagger on him.

Poorly made, bent, and dented.

Her blade.

He forgot when he must have taken it—did he borrow it on one of the islands? Did he use it the other day while they were working? He didn't know.

"Son!"

"Merida doesn't want the crown, dad," he gave a little panicked laugh, "She doesn't want to be stuck doing whatever everyone else wants her to do. So, when this is all over," _(he shouldn't be telling him this, he shouldn't, he shouldn't, he shouldn't)_, "She's leaving. With me and Toothless and Saorsa. And no one will stop us."

He threatened with the tiny blade again before sheathing it in a belt loop.

"We've done enough," he spat, feeling tears collect in his own eyes, "We've lost enough. We deserve happiness! Just because you made us doesn't mean you get to control our lives! All I've wanted is my freedom and Toothless gave it to me and when Saorsa chose to be with Merida, she was given the same opportunity! She wants to leave, she doesn't want to rule. We're not ready. We're not made for it!"

He wheeled wide, upset eyes to Gobber.

"How do you all keep wanting more?! I'm just expected to jump to save the people that tormented me for most of my life? Who ignored me?" He accused his father, "Who abandoned me? And she's supposed to marry some witless idiot just because he won some stupid competition? Becau-because it's _tradition?_"

"Hiccup," his father advanced and shook him hard, "Ye cannot take the lass from here, you cannot do this. If she runs off with ye, what will become of our peace?!"

"Your-your peace?! What about mine?!"

"Ye can find a girl, anywhere—!"

"Ah, Stoick—?"

"Stay out of this, Gobber!"

"Why should we put aside our feelings to keep protecting you?!" Hiccup scoffed, pulling away, gesturing wildly, "Why do I have to keep saving this damned tribe?! I gave you everything! Hel—I gave you my leg!"

"Okay, well, that's not exactly fair," Gobber raised his limb, nonchalant despite the rising tempers in the room, "Yer outnumbered here."

"Why can't you think for yourselves for just once!" He hollered, uncaring of those that heard him, "Can't you figure out your own way to peace? Why do I have to be the one coming up with all the ideas here?!"

"Because ye are to be the leader of this tribe, Hiccup and, so help me, ye will take this role—!"

"To Hel with you! To Hel with the Hooligans! I swear, I will never—!"

Gobber clapped a hand over his mouth, "Easy, lad, before ye say things ye cannot take back."

Stoick looked between his best friend and son before he sneered and stomped out of the house they were invading, grumbling as he went. Gobber dropped Hiccup and he wheeled on his mentor and father figure.

"I don't—!"

"Don't start," Gobber sighed, "I know. It's alright, boy-o, I know."

His chest heaved with emotion, "I can't get to her right now…"

"And that may be for the best…"

"I'm worried about her," he groaned, "Something was _in_ her, something was rooting around in her brain, Gobber…I think it was that boy, Ivar."

"But he claimed he could not see her, could not find her. How did he manage to do so now?"

"I have no idea, and," he waved a hand towards the castle, "Because of her family, I can't get in there to ask!"

"Oh, ho-ho, I see now," Gobber chuckled at him, "Ye're just sore the honeymoon is over, eh?"

"Ugh—Gobber, no!" He flushed a scarlet shade.

"So ye haven't—?"

"No, we haven't," he stressed, "She's never…at all," he cleared his throat, "Apparently it's a big deal here."

"Huh, well," Gobber chewed on a hunk of some dried meat, "That makes sense, considerin' how little say women have in this blasted place. Only thing goin' for 'em is the fact it's not so blasted cold."

Hiccup sat on a bench and thunked his head down on the table with a furious groan.

"Why can't I ever be free?"

"Yer alive," Gobber muttered, "That means someone, somewhere thinks ye owe 'em somethin'."

He chuckled against the wood, humorless and angry.

"Go ride yer dragon, Hiccup," Gobber thumped him on the back, "That'll help ye some. And when night falls, perhaps that dragon just happens to fly by a window…and behind that window is a certain princess."

Hiccup scoffed, "A midnight ride isn't going to solve much, Gobber."

"No, that's true," he ruffled the younger man's already wild hair, "But, it's make ye both feel better and give yer wicked heads some time to plan this mess out."

Sighing, Hiccup stood and stretched to go look for Toothless and the other Nightfury.

"And, son?"

He turned.

"I know it may not help ye, but I agree—We've taken so much from ye, boy-o. If ye want her and she wants ye, go and do not look back. We can handle peace, just take care of yourselves."

"Thanks, Gobber…"

And he was gone.

* * *

Merida could not escape her mother, there was no way to get around the pounding questions she was throwing on her. Her head was aching, radiating down to the stiffness in her jaw, her entire body as tense and taught as her bow string. Blinking dry, irritated eyes, she glared balefully at her mother who wouldn't back down.

"Ye'll never leave this room, lass, if ye don'nae start talkin'!"

"Mum," she stood, despite the creaking of her knees, "D'ye honestly think ye can contain me?"

She snarled, "Ooh, child—!"

"Mum, _enough! _What d'ye think happened?" She advanced, shoulders falling. "Ye know the truth. If there was anyone in this castle that would figure it out, it would be ye. I snuck out nearly every night, my room smelled like herbs, I was always in the woods even when I should'nae have been. I knew things I did'nae need to, I found things out ye kept hidden—tell me, mother…what d'ye believe?"

Her mother shook her head, "Please, Merida…tell me ye did'nae…ye would'nae get entangled with the _Cailleach_. Not after what she did to us, to _me._"

"Mum," she sighed, "_I _did that to _ye. _Not Moira. It was me and ye can'nae blame her for what I did. There's no one to blame _but_ me."

Her mother scoffed, "I…I know I did'nae…well, I brought ye to the edge, lass. I know I did and I forgot that I can'nae force ye to do anything ye do'nae want to do…"

"Mum," Merida pulled at her hair, "I…I was helpless when I turned ye into a bear. I nearly killed ye, sucked yer soul out and, God knows where it would have gone! I never wanted to feel that way again so I swore, when Moira offered me a chance to learn, I would never be in that situation again. I knew that now, finally, I could control my fate!"

"Lass, fate is…"

"I know," Merida groaned, "Not that it matters now, but I know. But, mum, this boy, this threat…"

She turned blue eyes, the eyes of her father, to her mother.

"He rips people's minds _apart._ He does it because it's easy to manipulate a puppet, a body without a mind attached. He can go in and suck it out, like-like-well, I don't know what but he ruins everythin' he touches and he's comin' for us and he's gonna kill us if we do'nae find a way to stop him!"

Her mother's hand fluttered at her throat, panic in her eyes.

"What—I do'nae want ye involved, lass…I lost ye once…"

"I lost the entire castle, mum," tears inadvertently filled her eyes, "They were slaughtered! Cut down right before my eyes! It is somethin' that will ne'er leave me, I'll carry that horror with me until I am gray and dyin'."

She took her mother's hands in hers, feeling her fingers grip her own so tightly, "We must stop them…"

Her mother began to cry, "I have already lived through war…I have seen too much already…" She took her hands and the two women, crushed by the realities of life, could not stand in the face of it any longer and fell into a nearby chair.

"Lass, Merida…" Her mother murmured, "I push ye…I wanted ye to wed for many reasons, tradition, aye, but because I was afraid. I was so afraid of war, because I had grown up with it all my life. I never wanted ye to have to go through it…"

Her fingers clenched around Merida's hand.

"I believed it would be better for ye to be miserable and alive than free and haunted like myself."

Merida snorted, "I would disagree, even after what I've seen and what I've done."

Elinor bit her lip, "Oh, Merida…"

"Mum," she sighed back, "I know now that life can'nae…ye can'nae run. Life catches up, ye ken it…but we can make decisions. We must decide what is right for us. I want to do this, I want to save ye, everyone…"

She moved to kneel before her mother's knees, "But then…then ye have to set me free."

"Wh-what?"

"In return for my power," her chin rose and bile seemed to coat her mouth at the thought of threatening her own mother, holding her abilities as a bargaining chip, "In return for peace…I want ye to set me loose. Forever. No more lessons, no more duties, no more expectations, no more crown."

"Och! Oh, lass," her shame was apparent, her disgust open on her face, "I thought ye'd grown out of this, I thought ye'd_ accepted_—!"

"I did," her voice was steady, despite the tremor in her guts, "I did, but now I don't. Give it to one of the boys. I don't want this, I won't be the one with everyone's life hangin' on to me like arrows on my belt, waitin' to be shifted to a weapon and used. I can'nae…mum, I truly can'nae bear the thought."

"Ye're—Ye're scared, that's all," she took her hands, "I know, lass, it's alright! Ye're tired and ye're stressed, but we just have to _keep our heads."_

"Mum," she was calmer than she believed she would be, "My decision is made."

Her mother turned from placating, understanding to furious in a moment. Merida was ready and stood her ground.

"Merida," she breathed as if she herself could spit fire, "I—I know ye want yer freedom but are ye really sure ye're willin' to sacrifice—?!"

"Yes."

"Merida!" She shook her, "Ye are a princess! I expect ye to act like one!"

She shushed her mother, "Mum…ye can'nae stop me."

She barely winced when her mother slapped her across her face, her cheek immediately burning and swelling. Her left eye began to water from the impact but not from hurt or betrayal—she knew she would act like this, she was always temperamental when she couldn't control her daughter. She had burned her bow, thrown out toys, sold horses before, this was just a long line of her trying to reign her child back into her control.

Her hand flickered with her magic, summoned to her fingertips with barely a thought. She pressed it against her cheek, cool and bright. Her mother gaped to see her child wield the same power that had nearly taken her life, watching the redness recede, the light swelling disappear. Merida's left eye seemed to glow from the power she pressed underneath her bright iris. Elinor gasped, sputtering, the smell of autumn leaves and moss and apples filling the room.

"Lock the door and I will unlock it. Hide the key and I will make my own. Build a wall and I will break it down. Do'nae make me an enemy, mum," she stood and brushed her short skirt off, another horror to her mother, "I'm leavin'. Do'nae try to stop me, just…think. Talk to da, maybe he'll understand."

She flounced by her flabbergasted mother, a slight pang in her chest from the horror she gave her. She hoped she did not have a heart-attack, but uncaring more than she'd like to admit. It should hurt her that she recoiled from her, evidence of her distress, but it barely hurt Merida at all to see such a reaction. Perhaps because she knew that her mother would eventually find out and this would be the reaction, perhaps because it was something she just accepted long ago.

A part of her had gone cold and hard and deadly.

Seeing that boy, what he was willing to do…

She couldn't help but shiver in disgust and went immediately looking for Hiccup. She stumbled into Gobber, who gave her a tight smile and directed her towards the woods.

"Ye know he does'nae like campin' with the rest of us," he shrugged.

"Aye, he's more dragon than man," she laughed and spun to leave, but he made her pause.

"Princess…Hiccup says…yer wantin' to leave with him. Are ye so sure?"

She turned a sad smile to him, "Worried about us on our own, Gobber?"

"No, no," he took a hesitant step forward, "It's…not yer job to handle us adults, to solve our problems. Hiccup is right about that, to be sure. But are ye truly willin' to leave all this?" He gestured to the castle.

"I don't care about rock and mortar, Gobber," she answered earnestly, "D'ye believe me if I told ye I never wanted to leave his side?"

"Ehh, forgive an old Viking, princess," he gave a half-shrug, "I'm not sure I believe in all…this."

She rolled her blue eyes, "Ye just gestured to all of me. D'ye not believe me, Gobber?"

"Nay, I never said that!"

"But you implied it," she sighed, biting her lip, "I understand, even if ye do'nae believe that, I do…ye worry about him 'cause ye love him so dearly."

"I do."

"He gave me what I've always wanted," she fiddled with her skirt hem, "I wanted to be free and now I can be. With everyone's help…this threat will be eradicated. But then…"

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Then I want my own peace. Is that too much to ask?"

He smiled down on her and enveloped her in a hug and she hesitated only for a moment before gripping him back.

"Be free," he told her, "Ye deserve it. Ye both do. And take care of him, will ye? He's a loose dragon."

She laughed against his shoulder, "That's why I love him."

"I know," he released her and they bid quick farewells as she went in search of Hiccup.

* * *

"Ugh!" Hiccup threw another stone, bouncing off a tree while Toothless sat and watched, unamused.

"Bud, what are we gonna _do?!_"

Toothless blinked and sighed, looking up towards the sky.

"Oh, don't you give me that! Am I taking away precious time from your _girlfriend?!_"

A plasma blast nearly took his prosthetic leg out from under him and he yelped and danced away.

"Touchy!"

He couldn't help the panicked little laugh that fell out of him.

"Aw, c'mon, bud, you want to go look for her? I don't blame you, go on," he offered him the sky and his dragon blinked lazily at him, bored with the entire scene.

"Oh, I see how it is!" Hiccup leaped and hung around his dragon's neck, laughing happily as Toothless whipped himself onto his back and wrestled with him, easily lifting the boy off of him and flipping him around with his powerful legs, throwing him into the air and catching him before tossing him back up into the sky and catching him again.

Hiccup whooped and, briefly, felt that it was just him and Toothless again, stuck on some random island hunting down another dragon and looking forward to catching fish for dinner and sleeping under the stars.

"Well…tha's attractive," someone scoffed and boy and dragon both froze, awkwardly suspended, staring at the intruder.

"Merida!" Hiccup scrabbled off his dragon, hitting him in the gut and making him wheeze, running off to grab ahold of the princess. Toothless grumbled in annoyance but laughed in pleasure when the girl sidestepped the human boy and went straight for the dragon, cooing and cuddling him instead.

"Aw, wee lamb! Did ye work so hard for him? Did ye?! And he leaves ye for a lassie with big hair?!" Merida teased Hiccup and herself in equal measure, happy to hear him chuckling behind her.

"How'd you get free?"

She sighed, leaning back into his open embrace, "Gave my mum such a fright she may have died…"

"How—? Oh…that bad, huh?"

"I think she already knew in a way…but it was still a shock to see. She slapped me."

He turned her around, looking for a mark.

"Healed it already?"

"It was light," she shrugged, "Took me barely a thought."

"Sorry that happened, though…"

"Like I said, I kind of suspected it…Her tantrums often rival my own."

He hummed, "Here I thought you got it from Fergus."

"Well, it's probably a combination of them, to be sure," she stretched her back out, "Sorry to worry ye, though. I know ye weren't happy to be dragged away, heard ye hollerin' and carryin' on."

He flushed, "Well…I wasn't sure what had happened and if you were going to be okay…"

"It was him," she revealed again, "I do'nae know how but he…he summoned me to this made up world. He built it, constructed it. He found me and he's on his way now."

He let out a long breath, pressing down on his panic, "How long?"

"A week, maybe a bit more. I'm sorry, Hiccup,_ I tried,_ I wanted to end it there, but he was in control and I—!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright, just breathe and start from the top. Explain it to me and we'll make a plan."

So she did, rubbing at the gooseflesh that rose along her arms at the sociopathic monster that liked to experience the death of other creatures because he believed himself unable to die. Hiccup interrupted, pacing, thinking, asking questions and trying to better understand this part of the story and that, hoping to find some hidden gem of information that the boy, Ivar, had let slip. She tried to describe the feelings he gave off, how her skin crawled and how suffocating his false world became when he was angry, how scared she was, and she told him continued speaking on marriage between them and children.

Hiccup winced, "That's horrifying, I'm so sorry."

"I know," she rubbed her arms, "It was…well…"

"Don't focus on that," he cut through her fear like his flaming blade in the darkness, "We have to figure out how to stop him."

"I still feel like I need that sword, Hiccup. Storm-Bringer."

"I'll work on it with Gobber," he began but she shook her head.

"I need to be there too, to…put my own magic in it. So that when I wield it, it obeys me."

"Okay, I know those words individually, but that magic shit still makes no sense…" he laughed, "But I can start on it tonight. And maybe I can dip it in Nadder venom…"

"Easy, lad, we just need it to work it doesn't have to set itself ablaze," she chuckled at his thoughtful look.

"Well, we don't want it breaking on you, princess," he winked, "You've got one Hel of a swing."

She smirked, "Damn right I do, Viking."

They stayed in the forrest for hours, uncaring of the danger it brought them. Once the sun dropped beneath the horizon, they flew across the dark sky, spinning and whipping around each other on the backs of their dark dragons. Merida drove him to the Crone's Tooth, where they landed at its feet, her eyes full of a challenge.

"Care for a wee climb, my boy?" She taunted, beginning to haul herself up. Saorsa cried and whined at the base of the rocky crag, Hiccup laughing outright at her madness.

"You're kidding!"

"Scared?!"

"Oh, it's on," A part of him was full of _annoyance_ and _worry_, but he pushed that away and began shoving his prothesis into any available crack in the stone.

As they climbed, their dragons kept close by for a hasty rescue and, uncaring and unworried if they fell, they raced each other to the top. Hiccup slipped once and the world tilted as he gasped, his heart pounding away at his ribcage as he hoisted himself straight, the caw of Toothless' fear in his ears and pulsing in his mind.

Pushing the thoughts of his dragon away, Hiccup continued to climb in quick leaps, his muscles straining. He knew that his connection to Toothless gave him more power, he had felt it plenty of times, the strength of his eyes and ears and arms and legs now filling him as he pushed past Merida, nearly knocking her off as she shrieked in concordance with her dragon before scrambling back, both of them reaching the top. They whooped and hollered, howling and calling and cawing into the night like wild animals, like loose dragons.

Face bright and happy, Hiccup held on to this moment as he cradled her cheeks and this precious point in time. He never wanted to let it go but he knew that time would march on, whether or not he gave it his permission—Jormangünd kept spinning, tail in his mouth, the sun stretching across the earth until the end of times.

"Are you happy?"

"Very," she blinked up at him, "Are ye?"

He let out a breathy laugh, "Like I've never been…I didn't realize I needed someone…well, I didn't know that I was missing you until I found you."

"Ye are such a flirt," she snorted, "Ye say such pretty things, ye must rehearse them! Ye were always stumblin' before, putting yer damn foot in yer mouth! The metal one, I might add!"

"No! Please," he groaned, "Please tell me you don't think I'm that desperate!"

"I do'nae know…ye do stutter a lot," she teased, "But ye still manage to be poetic, nonetheless!"

He kissed her, under the moonlight. He liked her under the sun, that was when she was her most vibrant, the most brilliant, but under the stars she was softer, quieter and it was sight he felt only he knew. This was an intimate world, the two of them hanging on, together, suspended by time, tucked away into a crack of Ymir's skull, hidden between worlds. This was a part of her known only to him, this was the benefit of having tamed her fire and earned her trust.

Kissing him felt like being attached to something eternal, like stepping between the ancient stones of her ancestors. It made her hands grow warm and full of power, made her chest clench and pound as if it would explode. She felt timeless next to him, like something perpetual, cyclical, like the dragons. She felt like she could magic them both to have wings of their own, to breathe fire, to leap from cliffs and survive the fall. She felt like there was no beginning or end when she was with him—just constancy.

She pulled away to show him to drink from the fire-falls.

"Only the ancient kings were brave enough to drink the fire," she murmured, "Though, in the moonlight, it seems more like lightnin'. Rather appropriate, I s'pose."

It was still freezing cold, despite the heat of summer that had come in with the Vikings. If it was full of magic, he couldn't tell, it was merely water to him. But she smiled as if she knew a secret she wouldn't tell him, cupping her own palms to drink the water, a glowing blue under the bright half-moon above them.

They sat on the top, like they did with the Norn's Teeth, and spoke about everything and nothing. Hiccup was looking towards the future, determined that they would have all the time in the world available to them. Merida nodded and agreed, but a knot was forming in her chest about the upcoming war.

She believed she could stop Ivar and she believed it still—but his power in his in-between world was more than she had. She knew that magic, like all things, took sacrifice and she may have to give up more than a necklace to seal the demon away for good.

She needed to break the bond between her and Hiccup first, which she still couldn't do.

She had a week though—and that would have to be enough.

Because, no matter what the cost, he must live—even if she had to die for him.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen, complete! **


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Preparation

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Preparation

Hiccup, the madman, proposed they jumped. At first Merida had laughed and denied him, thinking there was no need to add broken bones on top of all their troubles, but he didn't want to jump into the water, but to leap onto the backs of their flying dragons.

Then she agreed.

"Ready?!"

"D'ye expect me to be?!"

He gave a cackle that reminded her of Moira or perhaps even Tuffnut, calling out to Toothless who seemed to groan and cry out in annoyance and disagreement.

"Aw, c'mon, bud!"

There was warbling between the two dragons and Saorsa cawed, obviously distressed when she realized just what her rider intended.

"It's alright, my love!" Merida was gearing up to leap, swinging her arms to make sure she didn't hit the lower rocky outcroppings, "I will'nae miss ye!"

The two reptiles gave huffs in resignation, looking as the two young humans jumped from the high rock and landed heavily on the backs of their winged friends, knocking the wind out of them and making their shrieking laughter wheeze painfully in their chests. Saorsa got a mouthful of Merida's long hair in her gummy mouth and yanked to admonish her foolhardy actions and her rider apologized, breathless, turning on to her back as they flew in wide, arching loops that let her look up at the endless night sky.

_Freedom. _

It rushed through her heart and hair and blood, singing like a sword cutting down an enemy, like her arrows through the trees. She blinked back tears furiously, choking at the bright feeling that filled her chest, that had been there the moment she was allowed to fly Saorsa and every moment since then. The sheer relief was so overwhelming she nearly slid from the back of her dragon and fell to the earth, uncaring of the consequences, knowing that she could take her place with Moira and her ancestors with this feeling filling her soul to the brim.

"Hey, Merida?"

She looked up to his questioning gaze, his furrowed brow. She knew there were questions in his mouth, wondering about her thoughts, her wants, her feelings, why her eyes were so glassy, why she was so quiet. But then he swallowed them and gave her a grin that made him seem like a rambunctious, careless toddler.

"Wanna race?!"

Unable to speak, she merely nodded and situated herself in the saddle to careen through the darkness, their dragons screeching through the stars as if they themselves were made up of burning, hot gas that could explode and go shooting across the sky in a fit of fire. Toothless let off a plasma blast after he won the loop around DunBroch and Saorsa joined him with a powerful shot of her own, the combination sending electric sparks fluttering around them like blazing, lavender snow, the sharp smell of ozone filling the air around them.

Merida grabbed onto this moment and a handful of others that struck her, the most important moments, the moments that changed her beliefs and fate. She wrapped them up tightly and buried them deeply into her heart to make her stronger, to make her fearless to do what she had to, no matter the cost.

Because she was brave—

—And she couldn't fail.

Not their people and not him.

Never again.

* * *

"Hiccup, do somethin'—!"

"Gobber, I know—!"

"She's goin'ta break the cursed thin' in half—!"

"Just a few swings, Gobber, she won't ruin it—!"

Hiccup winced at a particularly rough hammer throw, "I hope…"

Even Toothless moaned at the sight and hid his face with his paws.

Gobber cried out in distress, "My sword!"

Merida was a _very _bad blacksmith, Hiccup realized as he gazed at the horror show from between his fingers. He should have known this from the little dagger the had made, but somehow seeing it up close was twice as alarming. She looked up at him and he gave her a thumbs-up, nodding enthusiastically and groaning as soon as she turned away. She pummeled the poor metal and dented the blade, Gobber finally having enough of her damaging his great work and went running into rescue it.

"I do'nae know if it has enough of my magic in it—!"

"Ye can get it in the blade some other way, ye savage," he spat, shoving her clear out of the forge, "Don't come near it again 'til it's ready!"

She blinked shocked eyes, about to round back in when Hiccup swept her away with a promise to bring her the completed weapon. She schooled a wince and straightened her dress _(long, this time, to soothe her mother) _and marched away with her head and back immaculately straight.

"How did ye fall for such a monster, Hiccup?!"

"Aw, c-come on, tha-well, that's not…it's not that bad…Gobber…"

Flabbergasted, the blond man merely held up the sword, the heavy handed dents obvious in the light but he still drew more attention to them while pointing his finger.

"I—Ugh, yeah, well, maybe we can smooth it out if Gruff can get the forge hot enough…"

Beaten to submission, is what Hiccup would describe it as. They had folded the metal half a dozen times between them and had managed to form a fairly balanced double-edged sword using the pommel they had found. Merida was only supposed to give it a few taps but he should have known that anything regarding finesse wasn't Merida's strong suit.

Gobber, too, was being rather picky about the process. He had apparently decided in the span of a moment when Hiccup brought him the project that this would be his _magnum opus_, the finest thing he'd ever dare craft.

"And when we're done," he winked at Hiccup, who was trying to explain that he didn't expect Gobber to work on it, "It'll be the sword ye use in yer wedding to the princess, since all the others in in yer family are still sitting on Berk…"

It was a ceremonial thing, a blade offered to the bride, usually accompanied by a kitten for mousing _(now mostly young men were giving Terrible Terrors, they were more prominent on the island anyway and far more successful) _and a gold ring.

"Eh," Hiccup scratched his head with a sigh, "Well, there's so little time, y'know, Gobber…"

"So, yer thinkin' of skippin' off in the middle of the night?" He scoffed, urging Grump up with the promise of roast chicken scraps and bones, "That'll go over _so well _with her family."

"Is this really the most important thing right now?" The younger man groused, "Is everyone going to ignore that we have to win this war first?"

"All the better to do it this Friday," he put the sword on the embers, waiting for the metal to heat, "It'll soothe some worries at least."

"Nope, nope, nope," Hiccup waved his arms, "No, that's not—no! Just no!"

"I'm confused," Gobber scratched his ear with his pinky, "D'ye want to be with the lass or not?"

Hiccup sighed, "I do, but us being free means not adhering to the traditions of our people. We're going to be together without anyone telling us what we are or our expectations. Can't you just _hear _my dad?"

Raising himself from the wall, Hiccup strutted across the smaller forge with his finger in the air, imitating his father, "Son! I'll expect ye to have an heir by next summer! If ye hold her legs jus'so ye'll ensure a male! And be sure to please her good, 'cause a Haddock won't leave a girl without makin' sure she remembers—ugh, I've grossed myself out," he shivered.

"And ye've given me bloody nightmares," Gobber encouraged Grump to blow more flames into the forge. He burped a glob of molten lava onto the floor before he spewed pure fire into the embers, making Hiccup cover his eyes despite sitting some ways away—Gobber, being so used to it, barely moved.

"Besides," Hiccup gave Grump a scratch when he moved away to go back to sleep, "I have nothing to offer, remember? Dad wasn't wrong. We're not going to get any kind of acceptance and…well…"

"Admit it," Gobber scoffed, "Ye want the danger, don'ye? Ye want to be doin' somethin' wrong."

"Wha-Woah, what?"

"C'mon, boy-o, it's me yer talkin' to now," he flipped the blade, making sure the pommel wasn't melting, "Ye always want'a fight, don'ye? Always want to prove that yer not what people want ye to be, always buckin' back against whoever is tellin' ye to do somethin'. Even now, fallin' for this girl—ye want to make sure ye do it in a way that makes ye feel like ye're doin' somethin' _wrong."_

"Oh, oh really, now? Is that what I'm doing?" Hiccup shook his head, "C'mon, Gobber!"

"Oh, ye think I'm wrong, do ye?"

"I do!"

He laughed, heartily, the small shack that the Scotts pretended was a forge seeming to shake, "Alright, boy-o. Whatever ye say."

There was a few beats of silence before he spoke up again, "Honestly, it's one of the reasons that I told ye to go so long ago…one of the reasons ye were not cut out to be a chief."

His chest oddly shook at that, "Oh?"

"Oh, do not take it personally, my lad," his smile was wry, "Ye see? As soon as I say ye'd be better off as a blacksmith than the chief, ye want to be chief!"

Hiccup grumbled out a 'nu-huh' under his breath.

"Ye're a good man, Hiccup, but…yer not a good leader. Ye're selfish, and that's alright if yer goin'ta be just'a man, but a leader must be willin' to sacrifice everythin' for his people. And it's not that ye're young, either, ye're just not cut out for this, lad. Ye see the way things have been done for years and ye think ye've got the only solution to make it better and ye'll do it, no matter the problems and havoc ye wreak in yer wake. Yer father sees every fight—ones fought and won and those lost and even the ones we've never seen nor will. He looks at every angle…can ye say that for yerself?"

"Of course not," Hiccup chuckled, hurt easing, "I see my way and I want it."

"I know ye do," he chuckled, "And that's what has changed our world for the better, but ye have brought attention and destruction to us, too. And I mean yer blowin' up houses, not this whole mess, get tha' look off yer face."

Hiccup tried to straighten his scowl into something neutral.

"But," he sighed as he finally pulled the blade and placed it back on the anvil, "Ye are not a leader. What all would ye give up to have this girl, the princess?"

"Anything," he muttered, with a shrug, "Everything…"

"Aye, the same ye'd give to have yer freedom," he went to pounding away, careless of any eye protection as he began to swing his hammer, making his apprentice wince at the sparks flying towards him.

There was nothing said while Gobber worked—the man could barely hear without the sound of his hammer evening out the damage done by the princess. He threw it back into the forge with a grunt of annoyance.

"This is all to say that I see ye, boy, and I love ye as ye are. And if ye want to be with the princess, that's fine, and if ye need to have it in a way that makes ye still feel free, that's fine, too. But, remember this—ye will always have a home if I am alive and well."

He was fiddling with something on the table, not looking at Hiccup. Gobber never had kids of his own, his seed never seemed to take on any woman he had lain with. He had never sought to marry or wed, but he still had plenty of loves that he met while sailing and met again through his travels. Not one woman had given birth to his child, so he proclaimed Hiccup as his only heir and scion.

His tiny Hiccup, who he feared he would crush and had Gothi and a few other women in the village hold as much as they were able during those first few, painful months after Valka flew off. But there came a raid when there was no one else, Stoick flying off to take charge and slay the demons in the night, and Hiccup would not stop crying, even being next to the forge. Gobber had picked him up and settled his wet, hot face against his neck and rocked him, singing poorly in his ear while he handed out blades and bolas, not accepting help from the women when they offered to stand in the smithy with Hiccup and let him fight.

Hiccup was his on those cold nights—his son and he would not trust anyone else to take care of him and protect him. And even when the horror of the raids would end, the dragons carrying off their kills into the night, men and cattle and sheep alike, to feed the queen _(it still haunted him that the corpses of his comrades fed that terrible thing that took his son's leg), _Gobber did not take Hiccup back to his crib, but kept him close. He would do it so often that nursing mothers would not go to the chief's house, but to the forge, sitting next to the fire and metal to help feed the abandoned babe during all hours of the day. It was as if everyone knew that Hiccup was Gobber's child in every way but name. Although Stoick took the flap when he would act up, it was Gobber who was expected to clean up after his messes, help repair the houses, who they would run to when he destroyed something.

It was always him.

He knew him and loved him, always had and always will. He was an odd little boy and he grew into an odd man, always determined to prove others wrong. Gobber decided he liked the princess and he would entrust her with his boy's heart and safety, sure that she would keep him happy and safe. And, one day, he had no doubt, Hiccup would settle—and if was here or somewhere else, he would go and stay near them and he would rock their babes just as he did Hiccup so many years ago.

Hiccup's hand fell on Gobber's shoulder. The young man was holding back tears but his embrace seemed to help unleash them. They cried, worried for the horrors of the future and all the unknown they were about to face. They cried for all the time lost and all that they had to look forward to and everything they've gone through. It was a moment that Hiccup knew was filled with fear and anticipation and latent memories full of blood and bloated bodies.

They pulled away with a laugh and Gobber wiped his nose, "Cryin', ye wee fairy?"

He punched his shoulder, "Shut up, old man."

They chuckled, going back to the sword that bright red and fully ready to be molded. Gobber put his heart and soul into this piece—it would be the blade he gives to his son to offer to his bride and it would help end this horror.

Lifting it closer to his eyes, he groused—it wasn't perfect yet.

But it would be.

It had to be.

* * *

"Yo, princess!"

Merida was with Saorsa and a few other villagers, discussing what needed to be done to the wall to fortify it against attacks. She wanted to speak to Stoick and Hiccup about moving to make the dragons a group that would move as a unit, but she couldn't catch them at the same time.

It was Ruffnut calling, Astrid walking by her side and their dragons not far behind them.

"Hey, princess," she smiled and Merida believed it to be genuine but it still looked like a sneer, "We're lookin' to go train, want to come with?"

Merida agreed, more than willing to put arrow to bow-string and fire at difficult targets.

"How'd you like us Loki-fying your house?!" Ruffnut cackled while Astrid rolled her eyes and Merida groaned.

"Well, I can'nae say that I did not ask it of ye—there were several I had to get loose from. If my brothers were here, ye'd have the fight of yer lives!"

"Where are they?" Astrid piped up.

"MacKenzie lands," she gestured with a jerk of her chin, "They're far enough away that we do'nae need to worry about them bein' in the way of the battle but close enough to worry about should we lose."

"You don't want to get them?" Ruffnut wondered, "They could help."

"With what? Pickin' up stray weapons or gettin' into more trouble or dyin'? No, they'll remain far off and we will get them once the threat is gone."

"It's true, then?" Astrid palmed her axe, "We have about a week?"

"Maybe more, maybe less…" Merida rubbed her brow, "I'm sorry, lassies, I am—I can'nae reach out into his realm again."

"Why not?" Ruffnut wasn't accusing her in any way, she was honestly curious about her magic.

"It's…his world. He owns it and he rules it, at least…the place he showed me. I do'nae know if I can make my own section or if I get trapped in his place again. If he manages to…"

She looked to Astrid, "Ye feared me, long ago, because of what was happenin' to yer dragons. He can do that to humans…I am scared he will do it to others. He may do it to me, because he wants me and if so, ye must run, all of ye. One witch is bad enough, but two? We'd slaughter ye all."

There was stunned silence while Merida let them into the training grounds behind the castle. They practiced projectiles but soon were facing off with swords, the three of them clashing against each other. It was every Shield Maiden for herself, each of them swinging heavy blades without care for their sharpness, having faith in each's abilities.

Merida was punched in the gut and went rolling away from a blade that was a hairsbreadth from taking a chunk of her shoulder as she gasped, jumping up to see that Ruffnut and Astrid were facing off, the violence of their battle jarring for just a moment—before she rushed back in and uprooted Ruffnut, literally shoving her shoulder into her gut and sending her flying as she blocked Astrid's swing with some difficulty. Grinding her teeth, she swung high and hard, pushing her arms high above her head and exposing her gut for a good kick. Falling with a gasp, she raised her sword to block Merida's killing blow before the red-haired princess was alerted to Ruffnut's approach from the pounding of the earth and she jumped away to face off with the other blonde. It went on like this for god knows how long, each of them ending up scraped and bruised, Ruffnut's nose pouring blood, Merida with a deep flay across her collar bone and Astrid limping painfully.

"We can'nae go back like this," Merida chuckled, "C'mere."

In the bright afternoon, her blue fire was even brighter than the sun. Astrid tensed while Ruffnut backed away, shocked to see it so close. Seeing their reaction, she cupped her palms around her bleeding chest, the flap of skin that had caught Astrid's sword having peeled the layers of flesh from bone and it oozed amber colored serosanguineous fluid, the bright orange of fat cells visible when it slid, only attached by an inch or so. Under her magic, she was able to regrow the skin, pull it together and stitch it closed with thick bands of magic.

It was an incredible effort—something that Merida would have never been able to do, even with Moira's magic settled in with hers. It was something she didn't know was even possible and she wondered if it was a defense mechanism, like Hiccup had claimed. She was threatened by Ivar, all of them were, and it rose and expanded in order to fight an enemy so much greater than her.

Her hand fell away to show that it was now healed. Astrid and Ruffnut shared a stare before Astrid bent and showed her sprained knee, the swelling and bruising already visible. Merida bent and pressed her glowing hands against it, fixing it in under a minute. Astrid couldn't stifle her gasp, muttering an 'oh, my gods' as she flexed the pliant and unharmed joint. Merida offered her palms to Ruffnut who, to her credit, barely hesitated when she nodded and Merida went to work on her broken nose. It snapped in place and the Viking girl couldn't help but give a shout of pain and shock as it was righted, Merida muttering an earnest apology as she securely knitted bone and cartilage together.

"Woah," Astrid looked to her old friend, "It's fixed."

"Yeah, I felt it," she spat, rubbing it and pausing.

She had grown up with Tuffnut and had her nose broken more than once. The ridge that was there was now smooth as if it was never broken before in her life and she gasped, holding it as she looked to the other blonde.

The shocked silence was quickly filled with questions and Merida flailed for a moment before they were all speaking as if they knew each other forever. She tried to explain how it felt when she called her power to her hands, how it was like draining from the loch and could run out but would refill over time and rest, how she learned and who she learned it from. She was just finishing up the whole bear ordeal, the three of them lounging in the shade of the towers spires, when Ruffnut looked at her with wide, bright eyes and a demonic grin.

"So…could you really turn someone into a bear?"

She shrugged, "Is'nae my talent, but, aye, I could."

"Really?" Astrid rolled to her side, her forehead creased in thought and interest, "That's…"

"Cruel," Merida supplied, "'Cause the soul of the person is in there for two whole days, but slowly slipping away. My mum still has nightmares," she sighed, "Or she did. This may take their place."

"A frog?!"

"Aye," Merida glowered at Ruffnut, "Frogs, too."

"She didn't know you were studying with the _Völva?_"

"Nay," Merida was braiding wildflowers into crowns, "She could'nae know. She probably suspected, she's smarter than I could hope to be…but she never had the courage to ask."

"A badger?!"

"Yes," Merida rolled her eyes.

"So it's a bad thing here, to be a _Völva?"_

"Aye," she shrugged one shoulder, "It's against God and it's dangerous. As ye know."

"Yeah, but they're praised by our people—"

"A yak?!"

"Is that an animal? Then, yes!"

"Wise women in our culture have more rights than most," Astrid continued, "More freedoms. They're healers, sometimes, but we consult them to speak with the gods, like you did at Uppsala. However, they aren't really allowed to have partners or marry...so, free in some ways, bound in others, I guess."

"I noticed the lass was alone…But ye all have more rights than I could have dreamed," Merida chuckled, "I'm glad I got to experience wearing pants and fighting next to ye. As a Shield Maiden, as Viking…as an equal."

"You're one of us," Astrid clapped a hand over Ruffnut's mouth, who was assuredly going to ask about another animal that Merida could indeed turn someone into, "Whether you wed Hiccup or not, you're a Viking and we are proud to call you sister."

"Yeah!" Ruffnut gasped, mouth free, "You're one of us!"

"You saved us," Astrid took the crown from Merida' hands and put it in her own hair with a laugh, "If you were to stay, I would choose you as Chieftess over Hiccup any day."

"A woman can rule alone?"

"Yeah, can't you?"

Merida shook her head, "I can only be queen if there is a king…if he dies, well, I can rule alone but I have to have a husband to ascend the throne."

"That's stupid," Ruffnut rolled her bright eyes, "You're people make no sense."

Merida sighed, but agreed.

Ruffnut wanted the challenge to braid her hair again, a feat that Merida had never learned. She had no friends that were near her age and gender, no friends like her at all in her life. She was always alone in the woods with badgers and squirrels and boars and bears—the only time her hair was attempted to be tamed was when her mother crammed it into a wimple or other damnable apparatus, yanking and cursing as they went. If she had this experience, these rough and tumble girls gently pulling at her curls while laughing about shooting and throwing and fighting, putting flowers through their weaving while they laughed until tears ran from their eyes, she wouldn't mind the experience. Between the two Vikings, they were able to create an elaborate crown and bun made by tucking the end of a longer braid in on itself. They gathered flowers and padded themselves with them, blood still smeared across there skin and blades still resting peacefully by their sides.

Merida never felt more at home than the did at that moment. She never fit in with anyone she knew, she was too high in ranking to have common friends and she was too young to get along with most of the courtiers children and she was too old to find much comfort in her wee siblings. And, of course, she and her mother were far too different to share much in common. Elinor was always trying to stop her, contain her, mold her and control her, and Merida never realized that there were people like her, girls like her, just a few islands away.

They came back to the main encampment, walls being fortified, weapons being sharpened, hair being cleaned and combed in preparation for what was to come. Both cultures were steely eyed and wary, but not for the peoples at their knees and elbows, but for the enemies to come. Some were talking and gesturing to make some kind of sense of the other, some were sharing food and shelter together, some checking the others weapons. The gruff brogue of her people was mixed with the harsh barking of the Hooligans and Merida, in one moment, could see into the future—

—DunBroch shiny and cleaned once more, the flag of her clan mixed with the Hooligan dragon wrapping around the center sword, its addition smooth and seamless. There were new tartans of red and black and brown and green, referencing to the Berk tribe as they shopped along the center markets. Games were held, tossing axes and cabers, ferocious sword fights and dragon races around the castle spires. Her family would stand next to Hiccup's as they watched their people with equal rule and coexist peacefully and prosper together as one group. There is more trade than ever before and the dragons fill the mountains and streams and woods, keeping the castle safe and secured from any who would dare invade again.

Hubert was crowned the head of DunBroch, his brothers happy to advise him. Astrid would take the place of Stoick and would work well with all four Clans. There was peace and joy and dragons and all was beautiful and well.

Merida blinked and she saw what was again—the extreme anxiety, the waiting that was holding them all by the throat. She saw the gray, dim walls still marked with fire from the attack, the castle empty and sad. She saw the dead earth and the bodies of both people laying across the ground and on the shoulders of those that survived.

But they would grow strong again.

And they were brave.

_They would not fail. _

* * *

Tensions rose as days past. There were some brawls between humans and dragons alike, scales and blood and weapons scattered around, but nothing quite so serious as to warrant real medical attention. Fergus was able to keep most of the Lairds and the Vikings entertained with his singing and made up competitions, Stoick helping when he could but also working with Elinor to fortify the castle and prepare the soldiers and dragons. Gobber and Hiccup were constantly at work at the forge, making weapons and armor for humans and dragons alike, working on the Storm Bringer during spare moments.

They all were dining in the throne room, now a great hall. Scotts and Vikings mixed carelessly, getting along well enough for the most part. The thrones were fixed by some hand, who's and what culture wasn't known, and Fergus and Stoick were chatting side by side, Elinor and Valka enjoying their food with relative conversation and Merida alone on Stoick's left. There was another throne, saved for Hiccup, but he didn't like to eat with them often, it made him nervous up in front of everyone and he would slip off as soon as he was done eating to calm his racing heart through flying. Technically, Merida was taking up Hiccup's spot to talk easier with Stoick, the two of them laughing together and Merida doing her best to translate for everyone at the long table, her shouting chastised by her mother more than once.

The door was thrown open by Toothless who came bounding in, stalking through the narrow aisles between tables. Hiccup followed with something in his hands, wrapped in cloth. He stopped before Merida, his dragon at his side, and they both knelt before her, the gift outstretched.

"Princess Merida," she could see the edge of his grin despite his bent head, "I offer you the blade to end this war: Storm Bringer."

She stood and took it, unwrapping the dark fabric that held it. She gasped at it, her furious pounding smoothed away, revealing a blade that shone in the firelight. The metal itself was not the same bright silver of some finer steel or the dark gray of iron—it was as dark as her dragon, pure black like oil or tar solidified and sharpened. There were runes inscribed that shone only when it was moved just so, but she couldn't read them. The hilt was from the original blade, of obvious Viking make, with a heavy, round pommel that Hiccup had polished until it shined like a rare stone.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen—surely Hiccup had done something to the metal, though she'd never seen a treatment quite like it.

She gaped, like a loon, unable to process such a gorgeous thing.

"Do you like it?" He asked, softly.

"It's…the most gorgeous thing I've ever set eyes on," she nearly cried, "I do'nae wish to sully it with blood."

His grin was heart-stopping and full of so much pride it nearly hurt her to look at him.

She straightened herself up and swung the blade, seeing that it was just slightly smaller than most, a better fit for her and him both.

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," she said, loudly and clearly, "D'ye offer your sword to me freely?"

"I do," he stayed kneeling, his smirk entirely too pleased with himself, "And my body."

There was some movement and suddenly Lachlan MacIntosh was by his side, ignoring the growling of Toothless. He plunged his blade into the ground at his knee and bowed before her.

"I offer my blade to ye as well, princess!"

Merida blinked and there came Ian MacGuffin, placing his war axe on to the stone floor.

"And my axe, princess."

Then waddled up Seany Dingwall, eyeing Toothless warily, his bow between his knees.

"And ma bow."

"Erm…" she blinked a confused face at Hiccup, who was suppressing his snickers. But his laughter died when Astrid and Ruffnut appeared, taking a knee with their weapons offered to her. Snotlout, Tuffnut and Fishlegs joined them, heads bowed and serious in a promise to follow her and protect her in the battle.

"Thank ye," she smiled, placidly, "Thank everyone here. Yer efforts have not gone unnoticed—everyone here has made peace between our people a possibility and I see that it will come to fruition. I believe it, truly, I do.

"But as ye all know, a threat is comin' our way, intent on stealing our peace from us. They want to kill us and enslave our dragons and the fight will be a terrible one. I'm sorry for that, for we have seen so much death and horror already. But afterwards, we can join together and create a stronger, better, more prosperous world.

"I am proud of ye—" her gaze swiveled to their parents, the Lairds and their sons, and all the soldiers in the room before landing on Hiccup, "All of ye. And I will ensure, with yer faith, that we shall not fail in this and we will have our freedom after these monsters are dead!"

The Vikings were pounding on the tables and the Scotts joined in, creating a powerful, drowning racket that Merida basked in. She raised her sword, letting it glimmer in the light before she bowed to the boys kneeling at her feet and she went to leave the hall.

"Where are ye goin'?" Wee Dingwall was next to her.

"I must go to the stones," she explained, "This way I can…make sure the sword is strong."

"Ye gonna do magic, then?" She sputtered, "We saw yer cauldron in yer room."

"Wh-what were ye doin' in my room, Sean Dingwall?!"

"Och," he crossed his arms, "I did'nae do it—it was _Ian's_ idea."

"What?!"

"Sorry, Merida," he was apparently behind her as well, "We wanted to know if ye were still alive…"

"Ugh, never mind it," she huffed, stomping out of the hall with a veritable entourage. Hiccup was in the back, but kept pace. The gaggle of younger adults attracted more, and soon the dragon riders and the clan heirs were all following Merida out of the castle gates and towards the woods, her feet sure even in the dark.

Just when Hiccup was about to ask Toothless to light the way, a wisp appeared.

_'__come! here!' _

Gasping, there was a beat where everyone stared at the row of glowing creatures before they went scrabbling, unable to stop the compulsion of all that they offered. Merida and Hiccup, who had seen them before and knew their call, were able to ignore the siren song but went running and chasing the others, laughter bubbling from all of them as they called out their wants into the night, the promise of the will-o-wisps loud in their ears.

"I want to be chief!" Astrid sounded strangled.

"I want to be king!" Lachlan choked out, rushing and pushing over Dingwall.

"I want a farm! With sheep!"

_"__Chickeeeeeeeeeeen!_" Tuffnut called.

"A family!" Screamed Snotlout.

"I want Merida to love me!"

So immersed in the call of the wisps' magic, they didn't even realize what they were admitting to and the others seemed mostly unable to hear them. But Hiccup and Merida chortled in glee at the admittance of their wants, the manic, frenzied look in their eyes only dissipating when they stumbled into the ring of stones. They gasped, feeling bereft, as though they had let their dreams slip through their fingers, turning to look at each other in confusion as the two heirs-apparent saddled up behind them.

"Out," Merida demanded, eyes already a haunting blue, matching the wisps that still seemed to hang around. They danced along the inner circle of the stones, swaying back and forth as if a real flame. Seeing her seriousness, the others backed away until they were right on the boarder of the stones, peering in from between them.

Merida should mind the audience, the many peering eyes staring at her perform what she had always hidden, always felt shame for learning in the dead of night, when nothing but owls and foxes and bats remain awake, but she couldn't at the time. She plunged the black blade into the dirt, feeling the magic in her rush through her, the circle amplifying her already monumental power source. Her hair flew back with the power of it, her lidded gaze a heady azure half-moon.

_'__If ye are here to help,' _she eyed the wisps, in her heart summoning the matriarchs of her magical line, Moira and her teacher and her teacher's teacher and so on._'Then help me…Help them…Let us stop this. Together.'_

There was a storm in her blood, the electric pulse in her pounding in her heart and crackling through her hair and fingers. It was instantaneous, making her gasp and squeeze the hilt of her new blade, nearly blinded by the power she could scarcely wield. Her eyes went hazy in the dark, the onlookers gasping to see her blue aquamarine gaze, as she grit her teeth and filled her new blade with power. Long, thin strands of lightning reached from her eyes towards her hair, down her arms across the black metal of the sword, making the weapon glow a pale white like a star, the entire area brightly illuminating the faces of the others.

_'__Protect them.'_

She closed her eyes and opened up every bit of magic she had within her, no more holding back in fear.

_'__Cut through metal.'_

Her heart raced in her chest, pounding so rapidly she felt as if she had been running through the woods for hours, up and down hill in a great chase. Sweat wet her brow and her hands went nearly numb at the amount of magic she was pouring out of her. She felt endless, eternal, infinitely bound to the earth and all the magic that welled up within it. Merida was not herself; she was the work of her ancestors, her teachers, she was recycled magic and would pass on into the next life with the knowledge that she would transfer her magic back to whence it came—back to the earth.

_'__Cut through flesh and bone.'_

The air seemed to hum with the electrical current she was making, like stepping into a massive beehive. It made the ground vibrate and the others, Vikings and Scotsman alike, shared worried glances as the steady, pulsing beat that made them tremble. The stones around them began to hum in tune with her power, slowly beginning to glow the same blue as her magic. Hiccup shared a gaping look with Astrid, who's furrowed brow expressed her worry but no one dared attempt to say anything above the din her power was making.

_'__Cut through hide and armor.'_

It was beating them like a gale, wind having picked up to whip around them as if they were standing in the middle of a violent storm. Merida, trembling from the exertion, lifted her face to the sky and screamed—

"Her mouth!" Someone shouted.

That, too, was full of blue electric pulses that danced and crackled along her molars, extending out like the same furious plasma bolts Toothless and Saorsa shot.

_"__I summon the Caim!"_ Merida shouted, bands of currents racing along every hair and along her skin like a lover's caress.

_"__I use my magic,"_ her voice could scarcely be heard above the noise, the wind so furious it was rushing against her every breath, nearly choking her ancient words, as old as the stones, as old as Moira, "_I use it to save them, to save them all! I use my magic to protect!"_

There was a booming _crack! _from above and lighting, seemingly from nowhere, reached down like a bony hand of Thor himself and struck the metal rod in the dirt, sending everyone back with a sonic boom, the earth shuddering from the assault—

—Then it was silent.

Merida lay in a crumpled heap by the blade, little static pulses still running through her hair. She was burning hot to the touch, as hot as the forge, her clothing smoking as Hiccup tried to roll her, unsure of when he had moved, when he had reached her. The sword was still a thrumming, pure white that made him nervous and he called her name twice as he shook her, surely getting blisters from her skin. When she groaned and cursed at him to leave her and let her sleep, he fell to the side and held his chest in relief before laying back in the decimated patch of scorched earth to watch her quiet, peaceful face.

"Merida…?" He whispered, as if it were just the two of them and they weren't currently ringed by his compatriots and her would-be suitors.

She grunted.

"Don't scare me like that," he murmured, "We're still bonded, we're still connected…so you can't die on me."

"I would ne'er," she muttered, rolling into the scorched earth her power had made to snooze, her nose twitching at the smell of burnt grass.

"You better not," he whispered, standing and scooping her up with only a little difficulty with his leg, ignoring the heat of her skin.

Ian glared as he readjusted her in his grip before whistling high and long for Toothless, who took less than a minute to come soaring down on them. He cared less for the Laird's sons than he did a rock in his boot and he knew his riders had their own way to get back, straddling the back of his best friend as he cradled his soon to be bride.

"Don't touch the blade," Hiccup warned, even though it didn't need saying.

It was still white and dangerous, seeming to thrum from its impromptu sheath, promising death and destruction to whomever dared fall under its swing. Even Snotlout and Tuffnut seemed daunted and they were the dumbest of the group by far. Astrid and Ruffnut tucked Merida's legs in so that they wouldn't flail on the ride and Hiccup thanked them before they were off.

The castle was nice, but he thought they'd have a better nights rest somewhere more secluded, somewhere they were in control, somewhere made for them.

Steering Toothless in the darkness, he formulated a plan as they went into the woods, Saorsa's call in the night answered by Toothless' own screech of acknowledgement before they were careening through the stars, the power of the Nightfury's wings echoing around them.

* * *

"Ivar," Bjorn grumbled, asking once again, "Are you sure?"

"I am positive," he couldn't help his constant grin, even though his brothers had claimed multiple times that it made them uneasy.

"Why would they return to the walled palace?" Hvitserk muttered, Ivar listening as he stomped back and forth on the top deck.

"Because they can fortify it," Bjorn muttered, "And now they have dragons, as well…"

Bjorn was mad at him—Ivar could see it inside of him, a writhing mass inside his head like a knotted ball of snakes, twisting around his brain and hissing and snapping at their own tails. He could see what Bjorn wanted from him, what he wanted him to do; he wanted the dragon-king dead and to steal his Nightfury, but he couldn't see what Ivar did. He knew there was something that was binding Merida and the boy together and he needed to root around inside him to undo it. He could not get inside Merida, even in-between realms she was shut up and barricaded, she was far too strong pry into her mind if he could even find it—he was using the Viking rider as a beacon to lead them to the walled city they had already invaded. He couldn't dispatch of the boy until he undid the knot that was wrapping around his future bride and the dragon Bjorn wanted to steal. Even then, he was not sure if he could untangle the bond between the boy and the dragon and his brother would accuse him of failure all over again.

He should attempt to explain himself, he should try to rectify the situation, but he didn't care very much about his brothers then. He didn't think he would ever care about them again, at least as much as he did. He didn't want them, he had little use of them now. Once he and Merida were wed, she would be his eyes and their combined magic would level this world of all that is and would ever be would fall at their feet.

He was brought back to the conversation when Hvitserk hit him across the back of the head and demanded he pay attention.

"You are our best bet of getting inside," Bjorn spat, anger radiating off of him in thick, sullen waves, "How many dragons will it take to break those walls down?"

Ivar sought through their army, shifting through dragon's minds like pages in a book, seeing that they had two massive dragons, Boulder Class, made for bashing and destroying. Their spiked hides and triple-split jaws would make them a fearsome pair if they weren't drooling into ocean, bereft of mind or thought. Ivar shut their mouths and commanded that they eat and drink plenty so that they would be strong, their orders being followed without complaint.

"I have two suitable. We may need more."

"Why would we need more? Oh, right, because you keep killing them!" Hvitserk raged, "We don't have time for this! Use what we already have!"

Hvitserk was grumpy in general, but he was more irked than usual at the speed they were approaching the castle. Ivar had made it clear to them that they were only to take it, not to bring more destruction to the walls—Merida loved it and the youngest brother wanted his soon-to-be bride to be happy with him. They had not liked the obsession that had grown in him so quickly, like poison, hot and heavy in his blood—it made his magic even more volatile—but he didn't care what they wanted. They knew as well as he that without his power, they had little to nothing. The soldiers and pirates and mercenaries they had acquired would get them pretty far, but with the amount of dragons that the Alpha dragon and his rider had acquired would end their armada within a few moments.

So Ivar did what he wanted, as he always had.

And he had kept his promise to Merida, he had yet to kill another dragon on purpose. But he was careless, admittedly, he shrugged one shoulder at his brother—he forgot to tell many of them to eat and drink, which was a crucial part of living for most creatures. He sent a command for all the beasts to handle their needs, near or far, and return as fast as their wings could carry them back to the ships. He heard the great flapping of wings and a few shouts as they dispersed to nearby islands or into the sea for food.

"Brother, this girl, this witch…"

"Merida," he sighed, dreamily. He couldn't stop thinking about her, her long red curls that looked like blood and her pale, bone white skin.

"Right," Bjorn cleared his throat, "How do you know—?"

He didn't have to hear him speak to know what he wanted to know.

"I know she's mine, brother," his pale eyes were sharp, "I know it like I know myself, my own magic…"

His grin hurt his cheeks it was so wide.

"I can't wait to have her, to touch her body…brothers…"

There was some shuffling and he sat himself on top of the small table under their ship, crossing his legs.

"How do you please a woman?"

There was a groan from Hvitserk and Bjorn cursed fluently under his breath.

"I know you have lain with many," he accused, crossing his arms, "Surely you can tell me how."

"It's not about—look, brother, Ivar," Bjorn was taking that tone of the eldest, the tone he'd been using ever since their father had died, "You can have whomever you want, we can't tell you who to wed, but this girl…"

"She will be mine," he cocked his head, "Or do you wish to disagree? I don't need you to win."

"Now, you listen here you little—!" Hvitserk was cut off and he wheezed, Ivar knowing even without his magical sight that Bjorn must have hit him.

That was the nice thing about them. Ivar had shown them his true power—he had made so many around them mindless zombies. There was never a reason to turn against his brothers, they already know what he could do.

So they never crossed a line.

His smile was triumphant.

"I'll tell you, Ivar," Bjorn sighed, "How to please a woman. Most importantly, you must give her leniency and treat her with respect. Can you do that?"

He shrugged, "Of course."

Merida was his equal, or as close as there would ever be. She had erected fairly good walls around those she was close to, which is why he couldn't destroy the boy and the other Nightfury until he got his hands on him. Once his magic crawled under his skin, there was nothing that would save him but he needed to get close enough and needed a ride fast enough to do so. Merida said she was not wedded to anyone, but that didn't mean that Ivar wasn't threatened—and she would forgive his transgressions against the humans once she was full and round and awaiting their child.

Even the boy.

"Ivar," his brother was speaking, "…If you want this woman, you will have her. But if it is only power you seek—"

"Merida shall be my bride," his snarl was more violent than he expected, "And you cannot stop me! No one can! No one! I am the only reason you have been able to get so far and if you don't believe that I will pick up and leave you to flounder in this Thor-forsaken ocean then you are a fool!"

"Easy, brother, lest you lose those who truly love you. Who took care of you when mother tried to bash your brains against a rock?"

He felt his eyes burn but he was a man, now, damn it, and he would not cry.

"She was maddened…"

"That's right, she was," his brother's tone was triumphant, "And she saw you as a beast that rotted her from the inside out. And, tell me, brother, what happened?"

"She—I…"

"She found you rather…monstrous, I would say. So she attempted to slay you as a young babe, but who was there to stop her hand from breaking open your skull?"

"It was…you…" his voice was quieter now, "And Hvitserk…"

"That's right," he was softer now, his arm on his shoulder, "And we took care of you long before your magic settled. We washed you of your filth, we helped teach you to see with your hands. We were there long before and after anyone else. So you cannot turn against us, can you? That would be dishonorable."

He heard Merida's words in his mind.

"You don't care about me…you just want power!"

It was nothing but a whine, his voice crackling pitifully and he winced in embarrassment.

"Oh, Ivar," he sighed, "Is that what you believe? After all I have done for you? I washed your clothes, woman's work you know, brother, I fed you with my own hands, dressed you and taught you to fight even without sight…"

He could see the snakes of his brother's mind, twisting, turning, consuming themselves in constant circles like Jormungund.

"I am so severely disappointed in you."

He's chest clenched painfully and he sputtered, not thinking.

"She said it! Merida said it but I don't believe her! And she doesn't know, she'll see you as you are! She's scared, brother," he took his arm in his, "She doesn't know you as I do, yet."

He licked his lips, dry, suddenly.

"If you want her, brother, I'll share her," his voice was soft, "If you will help me capture her and keep her with me, you may have her occasionally."

He was pushed to the ground and he grunted, breath heaving.

"You know nothing of love, brother, only corruption and obsession. Perhaps, mother was right…"

"No, no, brother, Bjorn, please!"

He scrambled across the floor to grab his leg, the leather straps of his boots.

"I'm sorry, brother," he sniffled, "You know I am always on your side! I will do whatever you command of me, I am at your right hand! I am your weapon, as I have always been! A sword does not fall upon that hand that wields it! You know that! You know I am yours!"

"So if I told you to let this girl go, the witch, you would?"

He sniffled, again, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Ivar?" He pressed.

"I want her, Bjorn. She is like me. How many have we met like me? How many have we met?"

There was a beat, then a heavy sigh.

"None. No others."

"It's not fair! You and Hvitserk, you have had women! You have lain with them, but I have not had anyone worth my time!"

"You have never had any interest, no," there was another sigh, "Because I did not find you ready. You are still young, Ivar."

He couldn't help but scoff, wiping his nose on his arm as he stood, shakily, "You and Hvitserk had women before your thirteenth year!"

"We were heirs, brother, women wanted us to take a place near our father before he was slaughtered by that worthless Vast Hooligan."

"So I don't get to have the one woman I want because our father was killed? That's not fair! Bjorn, I want her, not anyone else! Just her! If you give her to me, I will share her! What more could I give you?"

"I cannot_ give you_ this woman—she is not an object, Ivar," his voice was tight and firm, "Women are not like your dragons. Have you forgotten our rules?"

"I'm not taking her mind, brother, that's not what I want! I've had puppets to play with, that's not what I want with Merida! She's too strong anyhow!"

"If she's so strong, what will keep her from hurting us?"

He scoffed, loudly, "I can stop her magic! I just can't…I can't see her!"

"I don't understand, Ivar—!"

"It means that her mind is not open like yours. I _see _you, brother. Your mind and soul and everything that makes you, _you. _But I cannot do such a thing with Merida, she is too powerful and she is very good at hiding away. If I could touch her in this plane, maybe I could…I'm not sure…stop her or block out that part of her, but I don't know."

"Then how can you ensure that we will not be harmed by her hand?!"

"Because she will grow to love you as I do as she grows to love me! Once she is full of child she will be harmless!"

"Please explain your logic, brother, because I cannot follow it," he could see the movement of his brother's hand rub at his temples.

"She'll be so concerned with the babes and the dragons that she won't have any time to focus on hurting us or escaping! Plus, once I get my magic and my hands upon her, I can basically disarm her."

"You just said you are not sure!"

"I'm not sure _how _to do so! But I am sure that I'm stronger than her!"

"So she is not your equal?!"

"Not in some things! No woman is equal to us in all ways, brother, you know that! They are weaker and far more emotional than men!"

"They're emotions make them stronger, Ivar, you should recognize that."

"Just-just listen!"

"I am the head of this family! _You_ listen to _me!_"

"Ugh! Gods! This is so _unfair!"_

His brother scoffed, "Unfair?!"

"You're never there for me! This-this whole war is what you want! Did you ever think to ask me about what I want? No! You go around telling me what to do, what not to do with _my _magic! Trying to make me think like you! Well, I'm not going to be like you!"

"You are acting like a child, Ivar."

"And you are acting like-like a beast! That's what you are!"

"Ivar!"

"I'll never be like you! I'd rather die than be like you!"

"Ivar!" He was advancing and he grabbed him, lifting him from the floor and shaking him, hard, "You are a Viking! And I expect you to act like one!"

He saw his hand raise but he never considered he would use it against him. He slapped him across the face like he did when he was young and hurt the children of the village, drawing attention to himself and their family and driving them away because of the bodies he left in his wake. He was young then and nearly hurt his brother—nearly took their minds away. But he was stronger now, he was better equipped and in control.

Of his magic, at least.

He turned wide, white eyes to Bjorn, tears slipping down his face in shock and despair.

"Ivar…"

"You…you hit me…?"

"I cannot have you turn against us," his voice was rushed, "Even for a woman you want."

"But-but-but I want her, brother! We were meant for each other! It's my fate! My destiny!"

"Your fate?"

"Yes! She was meant to be with me! Our powers are so similar! I was made to reveal the truth, she was made to conceal! We were meant to be!"

"Brother…"

"Please! Please, Bjorn…if you give this to me, if you help me get Merida and keep her for myself, I will never question anything you say, ever again! I will be nothing but a blade in your hand! I'll-I'll-I'll do anything at all! Ever!"

"I have told you several times, Ivar—I cannot _gift _you a human being!"

"I'm not asking you to give her to me! I'm asking you to let me keep her! I will get her for myself! But I don't want you to hate Merida!"

Bjorn was getting more irate—the snakes that made up his mind spinning furiously, twisting amongst themselves in intricate knots.

"I care nothing for the girl, Ivar. I only care about you, because you are my brother."

"Then you'll accept her once I have her?"

"Oh, dear Thor," he threw a pitcher across the room and it shattered, "You know what—? I don't care! I don't! Take the girl, turn her mindless, rot her from the inside out, I don't give a damn! Fuck her while she fights you or when she's unconcious, impregnate her with your magic, I cannot express to you the fact that I care not about her or her well-being! I cannot have you so focused on her that you lose everything that we have built!"

His shout had risen to a roar and Ivar sulked.

"I can keep everything under control."

"Can you? Because within in two moments after knowing she _existed, _your barrier falls and Hvitserk and I nearly were shot to Hel by that demon dragon you never mind-fucked!"

"That wasn't my fault! I was protecting us from dragon fire and projectiles and weapons! Her dragon has her magical power and I wasn't expecting it!"

"Her dragon…has her magical power?"

"Yes! They're bonded, not like the boy, but still bonded!"

"You are speaking in a tongue that I know but don't—!"

"Ugh! Listen to me! Her magic is _in_ the dragon, understand? So when the blast came, it pierced my barrier! But I will be better prepared this time! I know her talents, I know her powers, I know everything about her. Or I will!"

"Brother, there are too many variables to this. I will not jeopardize this entire mission due to your wants!"

"It's not a want—I need her, Bjorn!" He whined, "I dream of her, her hands on my body, how smooth and soft she is—!"

"Oh, enough," he hissed, "You are not —!"

"Please, brother?! Please, please, please?!"

"Ivar," he groaned and pressed his palms into his eye-sockets, "Stop this!"

"No," he whined, "I can't just let her go and forget her. When is the next time I find another person like me? It could never happen! After you and Hvitserk pass on, who will spend eternity with me?"

"Ivar," he sighed, "Brother…You know that death—?"

"Whatever," Ivar huffed and sat on the ground, pouting, "You don't love me. You don't want me to be happy."

"Brother…" he bent and put his hand on his shoulder, "Brother…if you can promise me that you will keep your head about you, protect me and Hvitserk, I will accept her once you are wed. Is that what you wanted me to say?"

"Yes, but you don't mean it!" He jerked his arm from under his palm, turning the other way, "You only say what what you think will placate me."

"Of course I do," the snakes writhed beneath his skin, a million that made up his veins and muscles and moved as one, "I love you, brother, and want you to be happy."

"Truly?"

"By Thor's Hammer, I so swear it."

"Then…"

"I will happily accept her, should she become yours. That is up to you, surely, and her, but I will not reject the woman you love as long as she loves you in return."

"Oh, Bjorn! Thank you!" He wrapped is arms around his brother, who chuckled lowly.

He patted his back, "I love you, Ivar."

"I love you, too, brother!"

Bjorn was made of serpents that made up his very soul.

The snakes spun, in eternal circles, consuming themselves.

* * *

**Chapter fifteen, complete!**


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Peace & War

**I do not own _Brave _or _HTTYD._**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Peace & War

Hiccup found a quiet meadow to land in, Toothless' grace and ease as great as he'd ever seen. Thanking his dragon lowly, he dismounted with Merida in his arms. Saorsa landed in the next moment, cooing and nuzzling her rider's cheek in worry. Her skin was still hot to the touch, face flushed as bright as her hair as she slept peacefully on. Saorsa's, yellow eyes pierced Hiccup and he swallowed thickly before assuring her that Merida was fine—just fine and would wake up soon. He placed her in the tall grass, pressing his lips to her burning forehead once before leaving her in the capable claws of her dragon.

He built a fire although it was warm enough that they didn't need it, but it was reflex and maybe Merida would wake up and want food. Toothless lead him to water, which supplied them all with fish. He wanted some kind of bowl to bring some back with him but couldn't find anything close enough in the packs that were on his dragon, his map and some other limited resources remaining on him at all times. He hurried back to Merida with two gutted fish on a couple of spits, Toothless' mouth full to supply Saorsa as well. Hiccup did not look forward to watching the other dragon eat his coughed up carcasses, but at least he wasn't offering any to him anymore.

He was keeping himself busy, collecting more kindling, scaling the fish, anything to keep his mind off how hot Merida was running how long it would take her to wake. Saorsa wasn't as patient, her thick tongue swiping across her face every so often to clean her of sweat and probably check her temperature—it was a sweet, if not disgusting, gesture that made Hiccup wince. He was reticent to shove the dragon away, since Toothless appeared just as concerned and kept closer to Merida than he did Hiccup, which concerned the human male further.

But he couldn't heal any magical related injuries—so he was stuck waiting.

After three hours of fighting off the bugs that kept trying to get to the uncooked fish, Merida groaned as if waking from a long nap. He saw her yawn widely, groaning as she sat up in a mess of curls as she wiped at her face and waking quickly when her palm was thoroughly adhered to her skin. She gave a gasp when she couldn't pull it away, the Nightfury saliva nearly like glue. There was more struggling and Hiccup was on his feet, pushing down his laughter as they made their way to the stream. After washing her face and unsticking her palm, she wetted her curls and sighed at the still-cold water.

"Hiccup," she looked over her shoulder as he hummed a response, "Undo my dress for me, wee lamb."

"I-I-wow, wh-what now?"

"I've been sweatin' for Thor knows how long and I'm still hot," her hands were reaching back behind her, motioning to the same cords that seemed to hold her last dress together, "I want to cool off and get in."

"In-in-in where? The water? Oh, um, well," he hoped it was dark enough that she couldn't see his bright face, his hands trembling as they undid the lacing, turning away as she shucked it and her shift with a great sigh of pleasure and immediately began making her way into the shallow stream. She seemed to care nothing about his presence as she bent at the waist and showing him the expanse of her heart shaped ass, the secret between her legs just barely teasing him with a glimpse.

Feeling utterly flustered, Hiccup covered his eyes like a child. He had lain with women, he was the one with experience in this situation, but there was something about Merida that made him revert back to the same bumbling fourteen year old that drooled and stuttered around Astrid and prayed to whatever goddess that might take pity on him that he could one day have a girlfriend and know what boobs felt like.

She knelt and cupped handfuls of water, letting it slide down her pale body to cool her off and wipe the sweat from her skin. Again, Hiccup was struck by how primordial, how inhuman she appeared, like something dangerous or mysterious out of her fairytales. Something that came from this land and would be found nowhere else on earth, every part of her grown and manifested here—the special dragon that was his Merida.

"If ye can stare," she looked over her shoulder, her brilliant hair becoming an auburn shade from the water, "Ye can help."

"H-he-he-help?"

"Aye," she jerked her chin, "C'mon in, the water is freezin'."

"Ah-ah, umm, uh-huh," he was stripping his armor off as quick as he could, nearly stumbling in, knowing that he wouldn't look half as impressive in the cold water, "Comin'!"

She rolled her eyes and turned back towards the dark woods and dipping her hair into the water before flipping it back. Heavy, the curls lengthened and the reached past her hips and trail into the running water, like little leaves swaying with the light current.

"Be careful—!" He slipped on a rock and just barely managed to catch himself from castration, "The rocks are slick…"

"Yeah, you don't say…"

He picked his footholds carefully, knowing that he would have to oil and grease his prosthetic if he didn't want it to squeak terribly, but uncaring. She stood when he approached, hands on her wide hips, giving him an eyeful—he gaped and swallowed, throat dry, before he eased his way to stand in front of her. Once up close, he could see that her smirk was wavering and her body was just barely shaking.

It made him feel better to know he wasn't the only one whose heart was thrumming.

He took her arm and pulled her forward, flesh to naked flesh. Despite the cold water, her skin was still warm. Her nipples pebbled and pressed into his chest and she gasped, trembling. Her bright eyes turned up to his, yearning, questioning. Gooseflesh erupted under his fingertips and he smiled crookedly at her, laughing at their virgin nervousness.

"Merida…?"

Her furrowed brow relaxed and she pulled him down into and explosive kiss that nearly had him stumbling into the stream. He reached up and tilted her head, angling their mouths together while another hand splayed across her lower back and pressed her to his body. His breath hitched when her tongue met his and he marveled at how her body was soft in all the places his was hard. Her hand was on his chest, feeling his heart flutter and she moaned into his mouth when she tipped her hips to his and felt him growing in anticipation.

"Wait," he pulled away, "Wait, wait…"

"No more waitin'," she hissed, sliding his hand from her back to cup the swell of her ass, "I want ye, now."

"No—I—wait!"

"Wha'?!" She whined, bouncing a bit and drawing his gaze downward for a blink before he was grabbing her head in his hands and forcing himself to look into her eyes _(only her eyes!)._

"I need to know you want this because you want me," he gasped, "Not because you are afraid or…I don't know, whatever is going through that giant mane of hair."

Merida gaped at him, pulling him down for another kiss that sent her near frozen toes curling in the water. She could never have believed to have felt so much emotion in her life—first with her dragon, which she thought to be a terror and a monster that became her greatest friend and ally and now with the Viking boy who changed her mind about his people, the world and all it had to offer her. It swelled in her chest and she thought she could near burst with the emotion, huffing out a laugh as they separated, both of their lips surely swollen.

"How can ye even doubt that I love ye?"

"I don't," he pressed his forehead to hers, "It's not that—it's _this_. _Us." _

"The…sex, ye mean?"

"Well…it would mean…"

"Ye said to me," she cleared her throat, eyes wet, "Ye didn't need a ceremony, or our parents or any of the bits and bobbles…Just ye and me. The war is approachin', and I do'nae know what will happen. I want us to be together, have this moment between us. Let the moon be our witness, aye?"

"My people would see us as wed…"

She shrugged one shoulder, just a few freckles dotting her pale skin like a constellation on parchment.

"Mine as well. But is that not what we are? What we want to be?"

His hands found hers, twisting their fingers together.

"Yes," he kissed her on the forehead, "Absolutely. If you'll have me."

She rolled her eyes, "Och, foolish dragon-boy! Course I'll have ye," she kissed him on one cheek, "Again," the other, "And again," his nose, "And again."

"You do understand that's not how—like I can't—not that many times—?" He shook his head, "Never mind, we'll figure it out."

She laughed and he was kissing her, murmuring her name like a chant, a prayer, as if it could summon the gods from Valhalla. At some point they dragged themselves from the stream and onto the bank, to their fire. The dragons were in the trees, hanging upside down like bats and, seeing their riders so uncovered and in the midst of something so personal, covered their eyes with their wings.

They fell into the soft grass in a heap, panting.

"Tell me ye love me," she demanded, her teeth finding his collarbone.

"I do, gods I do," he swore, staring down at her. Her curls, still wet, were sticking to her skin and his.

Her hands burned like fire and he gasped, wondering if he would be scorched to have her. Her cheeks were flushed and she grinned at him, happy and giddy to have this moment alone with him. She took his hands and pressed them to her chest and he palmed her smaller chest in his hands, suckling on her exposed neck when it tipped back in pleasure. He laid back on the grass and let her have her way with him.

Gasping, her brows lowered, "I want ye."

He smirked, palms open to gesture to her body sliding atop his own, "You have me, princess. All of me."

Above them, the moon witnessed them consummate their love, a right eternal under all the gods of all peoples—they were each others and no else's.

* * *

Afterwards, they lay naked under the stars, no need to fill the silence. They needed to return to the stream, covered again in sweat and fluids, but felt no need to until the sun would come and stretch its hot hands across the dawn.

"Next time won't…hurt, y'know," he murmured into her steadily growing hair.

"It did'nae hurt that bad," she shrugged one shoulder, "The first bit was very nice."

A bit of pride swelled in his chest, "I can do better."

She snorted into his chest, "I'll hold ye to that."

"I'll be happy to deliver," he chuckled, "But…just checking…you're…okay, right?"

There had been a moment where, while she was atop him, her face was contoured with anguish. It hadn't been physical—it seemed like something much deeper than that.

"I'm fine, lad," she swatted his shoulder, "It barely hurt at all. And I enjoyed it. Now I know what the maids were sayin'," the last part was a bit of a huff and he peered over at her.

"What does that mean?!"

"Oh, ye ken it," she snickered, "Just that all men need constant reassurance that they do well in bed, lest they start pickin' fights with other lads."

"Hey!"

He dove to tickle her uncovered flanks and she shrieked in shock and recoiled, making him pin her from above to adequately torment her.

"Do you yield?!" He cried triumphantly, watching her chest heave.

"Never!" She turned them over so that she was astride him again and he was pleased to let her be.

"Then we're at war!" His fingers were as quick as hers and she shrieked and nearly fell into the smoldering ashes of their long dying fire if it wasn't for his quick grip.

"Oh! Ye monstrous Viking! Come to pillage our land and steal our women!"

"Oh, yeah," his laughter bubbled out of him, despite the morbidity of their conversation, "I'll have you on your knees, princess! Bow before your Chief!"

"Make me!"

Laughing, their hands interlocked as they wrestled, Merida begged her gods and his to hear her prayer—that if she could not save everyone, let her save him. She would give up her life a thousand times if it meant his freedom, let him fly across the world as free as a bird. Let him have everything he wanted, Toothless and his mate included.

Staring down at him, his joy making his green eyes glimmer like the darkest pine needles in the summer sun, she knew how to break the curse between them and her breath hitched, letting him take the upper hand and flip them both so that he was between her spread legs. His chest heaved with exhaustion as his expression fell from joy to concern as he scanned her face, his two braids catching the slivers of moonlight that was fading.

She brought his mouth to hers and he eased himself to his elbows, settling into her again. She gasped when he rolled his hips against hers and she pulled away to nuzzle his cheek.

"I did'nae think—?"

"Yeah, yep, neither did I," he laughed, breathless, looking into her eyes, "But if anyone could do this to me, it'd be you."

"What does that mean?"

"You changed everything," he pulled a lock of hair from her lips, "I had all these expectations for myself, for Toothless. And you came and turned my world upside down."

"Oh…" she flushed, "Aye, ye did that to me as well."

His eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled.

"I love you, Merida of DunBroch."

"I love ye as well, Hiccup Haddock."

Her thumb trailed over his lower lip and he kissed it with a wry smile.

"Stay with me, forever," he begged, "I want you with me until the end of the world and back again."

Her throat clenched, "Of course. How many times must I swear to ye?"

"At least once a day," he chuckled with a shrug, "Maybe more if I need it."

Her smile was tremulous and he cooed as he bent to press his mouth to hers and she swallowed her tears.

The world was spinning out of control and she latched onto his back with both hands, letting him lead her into a corkscrew that left her dizzy and nearly sick. When they were done, gasping and shuddering in each other's arms, Merida ran her hands through his hair and let the remnants of her magic slide over his skin. He shivered but barely seemed to notice as he bent to kiss her on the cheek before rolling to her side and bundling her in his arms so that she could hear his still racing heart in her ear.

_'__If we should seem to lose,' _she compelled him, _'Run and save yourself.'_

_'__Run.'_

_'__Run.'_

Run.

* * *

When morning came, as it was forced to do, Merida and Hiccup washed each other in the little stream before putting themselves back together. He tied her laces up the back of her dress and she helped him strap into his armor, both of them giggling and teasing the other along the way. Hiccup's prosthesis began to squeak horribly and he groaned at his own stupidity before setting about oiling it with a small cloth he had on Toothless at all times. Merida had watched him remove it a few times, but this is the first time she had seen him disassemble it, muttering over the spring and screws. The bandages around his stump were still wet and she felt a rush of guilt as she knelt in front of him and began to undo them.

He yelped and nearly kicked her in the face.

"Wh-what are you doing?!"

"It can do a lot of damage, to leave it like this. Did'ye already forget my da has his own injury?"

"No-no, I, uh-um-well, that is—!"

"Oh, just hush," she unraveled the bandages to reveal the pink, slightly purple skin beneath. She could tell from looking that it wasn't bandaged right and needed to have tighter linens and she took the base of his leg in her hand, despite his cry of protest. Seeing the unlined section that would have wrapped around his wound, she scoffed and nearly growled at him when he reached to take it from her.

"Are ye crazy, Haddock?!"

"Wh-what? Why?!"

"You don't have anything but leather and metal on this accursed thing? Does'nae it _hurt?!_"

"Well, yeah, a lot more before but, y'know, we're, uh, we're Vikings! Pain is an occupational hazard! And I don't have it nearly as bad as others, I mean, y'know, you've seen Gobber! And—!"

"Shut it," she snapped, swatting his knee, "Ye're a fool."

"What? Why are you so mad?"

"Because this whole time, all the days and nights we were together, ye never once said anything! That ye were hurtin'!"

"Be-because I'm used to it hurting! That's what happens when you lose a limb!"

"No, ye topsy! It will ache, sometimes, surely—my da always says he can predict a storm in the way his leg throbs—but it should'nae _always _hurt!"

"W-well, how would I know that?!"

"Oh, for—! C'mere!"

She threw his old bandages away, she decided he needed something sturdier. She tore her underdress up to her thighs, creating long strips of fabric. She went underneath the wound, wrapping a tight figure-eight pattern that cocooned his limb past his knee, which he had never done. Finally, after it was rewrapped, she stomped into the woods muttering under breath about stupid men and ignorant Vikings hell bent on hurting themselves. She returned with a spongy, green moss that she padded the inside of his leg with, adding and fitting it, taking some out and trying again. Once it was to her satisfaction, she handed it back to him to put it all together.

There was a tense moment between them, staring off. She held her hand out expectantly and he hesitated for only a moment before she yanked it from his grip and gently replaced his leg. She strapped him in firmly, but not overly tight before gently pressing her lips to his bandaged knee and smiling up at him. He stood and tested it and couldn't help but gasp at the huge difference it had made.

"Better?" She asked with a knowing grin.

"Much, wow, thank you!" He eased more weight into it and couldn't help but give a pleased chuckle.

She looked too pleased with herself so he swept her into his arms with a great laugh, kissing her soundly on the mouth. Merida leaned into him, holding as tightly on to this moment as she was to his shoulders. This was how she would remember him, this part of him that she adored so much and would always adore—he was_ soft._ She saw it so many moons ago with the dragons, how he played with them and spoke to them like they were his best friends and his children both. He was a gentle soul always pulled into terrible events and Merida couldn't help but hate to see him once again forced back into a life and world he was simply best left out of.

She felt bad about her magic when she first awoke but she had gotten over it.

He raised a dark brow, "What are you thinking?"

"That's yer handsome," she flashed him a wan smile, "And that we need to leave."

He gave a suffering sigh, "I know you're right…but I don't want to go back."

She let her shoulders sag, agreeing softly that there was so much at stake.

"I wish it was just done and over with, ye ken," she wrapped her arms around herself, "No matter what happens I just wish I knew."

"Could you…look? Could you peer—?"

"That's not one of my gifts, nay," she shook her red head, "Maybe with enough time and Moira's book or more magic, but it was never really somethin' I had."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean," he swallowed, "I know you're doing everything you can. Last night? That was…astounding."

She tipped a brow, "Ye weren't so bad yerself, wee lamb."

He flushed as red as the swell of a ripe apple as he stuttered and laughed.

"You know what I meant," he accused halfheartedly.

"Aye, I did," her eyes twinkled, "But that does'nae mean I can'nae tease ye when I like."

"Damn Scott," he smirked.

"Cursed Viking," she chuckled back.

And they climbed on the backs of their dragons, taking off back towards the castle on the horizon.

* * *

"Dude, do it."

"No way! You saw it, all glow-y and lightning-y!"

"Aw, poor Snotlout is scared of a magic sword!"

"Oi! If you're so tough, you do it!"

The blade still lay in the center of the stones, humming gently and letting of an eerie light from the black metal.

"And mar my beautiful hands?!" Tuffnut threw his appendages in his fellow's face.

Snotlout batted them away, "You're hands reek! Have you been digging in yak shit?!"

"Of course not," he crossed his arms and sniffed, "But chicken is rather partial to it."

Shuddering, Snotlout turned back to the ring of stones. He wasn't afraid to go in—Jorgenson men were afraid of nothing!—but there was something _off _about the area. It was the same feeling he got around the dragons, before he learned to tame and ride them, something that tasted like blood on the tongue and the knowledge you couldn't win the fight of whatever you were up against.

There seemed to be _something _floating on the edge of his vision, too. Whenever he turned to look for it, it disappeared, which concerned him greatly. And no amount of calling, cajoling, or even begging would get Hookfang to stay near this place.

"Go touch it," he told Tuffnut.

"Nah," he shrugged, "Seems like more trouble than it's worth."

"Oh, so I can touch it and die but you can't?!"

"I mean, I could," he rolled his eyes, "Obviously I'm cool enough to wield it. I mean, look at it! It was made for me and Barf."

"Oh, yeah? Go get it then."

"Fine!"

There was enough challenge in his voice to make the kid do anything and Tuffnut went strutting into the clearing, chest puffed out and head tilted towards the sky. He went to the blade in the middle, his hand hesitating a moment before he went and grasped the hilt.

A light flashed and he screamed before being shot directly from the ring of stones, smacking against a tree near him. Snotlout winced and whistled at his smoking palm and twitching body.

"Oh, I am hurt! _I am very much hurt_!"

* * *

The trip back was filled with jokes and grinning and ribbing. While they were in the air, there was no looming war, no threat of death and heartache and loss. There was only the four of them—two dragons and the humans that rode them.

There was some commotion when they landed and the Queen raced to grab Merida into her arms.

"Oh, lass! Ye scared me to death! I did'nae know where ye'd gone!"

"I was with Hiccup, mum," her smile was dreamy, "He looks after me."

Her mother's grip tightened, her appearance suddenly fierce. She pulled her away from Hiccup, who allowed her to handle her family on her own—there were some things that were best left in her hands.

"Lass, tell me ye did not lie with him as a wife should?"

Merida shrugged on shoulder, smirking flippantly, "Does'nae really matter, does it? I've told ye—I will not be marryin' any of the Laird's sons and I will not be on the throne."

Elinor's face turned fleece-white and her hands shook as she awkwardly stroked her hair and cheeks, her eyes suddenly wet and pained. Merida's gloating manner dissipated with a flash of shame, her hand crossing her body to grab her opposite elbow as a blockade between her and her mother.

"How—How could ye _do this_, Merida?"

"Mum?"

She shook her again, harder and making Merida swallow a yelp.

"Do ye seriously not see the danger we're in? I know ye have feelings for the lad, but for God's sake, Merida! Did ye not think about us?! About what we are to do should be flushed from our own home?"

"What—What are you gettin' on about?"

"Merida," her voice was a whisper, more painful than a shout, "Do you not see what will happen? Should we win? Should we _lose?_"

"We will win, mother, but I still don't understand what ye're on about!"

"They—the Vikings, lass,_ yes_, do'nae shake yer bedraggled head at me!" She shook her again, "The Vikings will force us from our own lands, the land of our father's fathers, and take it for their own! We needed ye to marry, to wed one of the Laird's families for their armies and, if need be, their land. We needed ye to think of yer family, not yerself! What will become of us?!"

Merida balked, her hands fisting at her sides as rage hit her like lightning.

"Ye'd sell me?" She nearly screeched, "Body and soul to someone I do'nae love for some kind of false security?"

"Merida, ye are a princess! This is yer duty to yer family, yer people, yer clan and homeland! The Clans—!"

"The Clans can bite my—!"

"This is not about ye! Och," her hand fell to her brow, "I thought ye had grown, I thought ye'd come to understand yer place. What will we do now?"

"Mother," she spat, "Did ye not think about what an alliance between myself and Hiccup would mean? Would bring? Two royal families?"

"We do'nae want them here," Elinor snarled, "If they are here, how are _we_ to rule?"

Merida gestured helplessly, "Och, I do'nae know! Ye could try to speak to them, find them another place to settle! _We_ owe _them_, mum! They are helping us defeat our enemies! Or," she snarked back, "Do ye think it is _my duty_ to offer myself to that monster?"

"Do _not _take that tone with me, young lady!"

"Ye would give my body away, have me spread my legs for one of them so that ye'd have somethin' to bargain with! I told ye! I told ye I tried to save DunBroch, but I could'nae—!"

"All that sneaking around, all that magic learned and a dragon no less and what could ye do? Nothing!"

The two women battled as fierce as seasoned soldiers, attack—parry—defend and deflect—retreat—advance. It was a dance as old as any, disregarding any boundaries previously set between mother and daughter. Merida may as well have her bow for all the projectiles she threw at her mother, the two of them slowly turning more and more red in the face. Those who witnessed it quickly averted their gaze and kept moving away from what was obviously meant for family only.

"Mother," Merida took a few deep breaths, "I did'nae do any of this to hurt ye! I love him!"

Elinor swallowed her shout, her mouth floundering wordlessly.

"He is…" she looked to him, suddenly flushing a brilliant crimson, "He saved me. In more ways than one. And now he's saving our people. If he hailed from any other land, if he was nay a Northerner, ye would throw me at him whether he wanted me or not. I would be _owed_ to him—my bride price has been paid ten times over."

"Merida…" Her gaze hardened,

"I understand," she cleared her throat and grimaced, "That I was promised to the Clan heirs. But it no longer matters…"

"Merida."

"Look at this! Look at DunBroch! Hell, look at me! For once in yer life, just look at me!"

Breathing heavily, Merida gestured to herself wildly.

"I am! And…this is'nae good for ye, Merida!"

"…What?"

"Ye…are wild and unabashed! Ye wear short skirts and flaunt yer power to the Lairds and the Chief and—and any man! Ye act as if ye have no upbringing; like ye have some right to lead an army in the place of a man! And ye don't!"

"_I_ rallied the castle! _I_ held the line for _hours_—!"

"Ye failed as well, did ye not?"

"I did," Merida admitted, standing taller, "But I shall not again."

"There are ramifications to this—these actions have consequences! How do ye not see, after all this, that ye are not ready? That ye cannot run a household, let alone an attack!"

"And ye can? Ye, who can'nae swing a hammer, ye can'nae wield an axe—ye can'nae even shoot!"

"Nay, I can'nae! I know my place—it's time ye learn yers!"

"And where may that be, mother?" She radiated rage—Hiccup had no doubt that if she had any magic she'd be glowing with it. A part of him worried that she wasn't regaining her power as quickly as usual, but he filed that away to bring up at a later time.

"Ye need to be with me—!"

"Tell me what makes ye balk more, mother—that I act above the men around me or I was beneath one last night?"

Her mother reached to grab a fistful of hair, which resulted in some embarrassing shuffling and snarling as they fought. Hiccup took a step forward when Merida bodily threw her mother away from her, a chunk of curls still in her hand, "Ugh!"

Merida stomped her feet and glared balefully at her own blood.

"Merida…Merida…" She shook, seeing the hair she had pulled and whimpered, dropping the fiery strands and stepping back, "I'm sorry, love, I am…"

When she advanced, hand outstretched to console and soothe but Merida took a step back.

"Ye have to understand…ye have to see…"

Merida swallowed thickly, eyes wet and thick.

"Merida…child, my baby…I lost ye once and I can'nae lose ye again. Please, my darlin', stay safe in the walls with me. Stay away from this violence. I could'nae keep ye safe before—let me keep ye safe now."

Merida scoffed, "Is that really what all this was about? Yer fear?"

"Of course, ye daffy girl," she spat, "I have always made my moves for ye out of fear. I feared we'd fall and ye'd need a powerful family to keep ye on the throne. I feared the Northmen would return. I fear and fear and fear and fear…and look at what happened. Ye had no one to protect ye, no man to—!"

"I did'nae need a man! Hell, I do'nae need one now! I choose Hiccup—just as I choose my own fate!"

Elinor's lower lip wobbled, pitifully.

"They'll…lass, my bairn, my darlin', they'll kill ye…they'll slay ye dead and I will be left with nothin' but my sorrow. Please…Please, I beg of ye, stay here with me. Stay here and be cared for, stay within the walls that raised and protected you."

"Mum," her voice was softer now, pleading and placating, "Those same gates failed. Those same walls fell. Those same protections that ye believe will hold us will'_nae_. I know because I watched them crumble."

"But ye were alone! No way to hold them! But we have an army—a powerful one! Ye do not have to fight!"

"That may be," her shoulders flexed in agitation, "But how can I live knowing that others died for me? More than those that already have? I swore to the people that I failed once—that I would avenge them and remember them. How can I be expected to hide away from all this when I can fight as well as any man? My father taught me to fight, he taught me to hold a sword and when to swing it. I learned magic so that I would ne'er be helpless again. I can save us, mother. They have faith in me—why do'nae ye?"

"I do, Merida, I—Of course, I do! But ye are so young, barely twenty summers this past year. How can I lose ye? I have once already, how can ye ask me to lose ye again?!"

"I'm_ askin'_ ye to have faith. Faith in not only myself but in those around me. Have faith in the Dingwalls, the MacIntoshes, the McGuffins. Have faith in the Hooligans and Hiccup. Have faith in DunBroch and those that have followed ye and father since this madness began. Have faith in the land, which we are a part of and belong to—have faith in our fate that was determined but has yet to be fulfilled."

Once again, Hiccup was proud of his choice and beyond grateful that Merida could view him in any worthy respect. She had given herself to him, despite his faults and callousness and their many fights—she had forgiven him for his tripping tongue and foolish actions. He was continuously amazed by her bravery, her wisdom and power and he knew that a lifetime of her would not even begin to be enough. Her eyes were as vast as the sky and deep as the ocean, her lineage of witches power worn like a mantle around her shoulders despite the dirt smudged on her cobalt dress and her curls a bit more wild without a comb this morning.

"I had faith before—before all of this happened."

"Then ye can have faith again, mum. Can ye not try?"

"And watch everything I know and love die? How can ye ask this of me?"

"Because fate demands it of me!" Merida points to her chest, patience slipping, "And it demands it of ye also! Where is the queen that taught me to put the country and the Clans before all else?! Where is the woman that never dared show her emotions in front of the army?! Where is my mother, queen of DunBroch?!"

"She is _gone!_" She screeched, tears streaking across her purpling face, "How can I be the same after the loss of a child? How can anyone?! I will never be the same again and ye can'nae ask me to!"

"Then I won't," Merida ran her hands through her hair, "I will ask ye to be stronger. For the good of all of us."

Her mouth was puckered with sorrow, "Merida…"

"Mum…I love ye. I need ye to be strong."

"I—!"

There was a rush of noise, commotion and panic that seemed to race through the crowd that had gathered. Hiccup took Merida by the arm and began to haul her, bodily, towards the castle.

"Dragons! From the East!"

"Prepare for battle!" The bass of Fergus seemed to ripple across the crowds, people scrambling and hollering as the rush of bloodshed and promise of violence sent Vikings and Scotsmen alike in search of weapons and armor.

"We need to get our stuff, _now_," Hiccup encouraged, "Your Majesty, come with us and prepare to hunker down in the castle with the rest of the women and children!"

Elinor promised to follow but began rounding up those that had no skills with which to fight, the flurry of movement making everyone dizzy. Quickly, the previous preparation began to pay off and weapons began to be distributed, soldiers stepping up along the ramparts with bows and dragons, the gate closed and barred and fortified. Women hid children deep under the castle walls, near the secret passage that would lead them to the woods should things get too violent or seem doomed. The sound of battle seemed to rise from the earth as every available body quickly prepared to meet violence and death.

Merida and Hiccup strapped themselves into their armor, helping each other with shaking fingers. He couldn't plait as successfully as some of the others in his tribe, so they ended up pressing her hair into the ball-like tail they had managed before. Once fully outfitted, Hiccup pulled Merida's brow to his and sighed through his nose, remembering this moment.

"Lo, there do I see my Father. Lo, there do I see my Mother. And my sisters and my brothers," he prayed, "Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning."

"Our Father, who art in Heaven," she whispered, "Hallowed by thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

"They do bid me to take my place among them," Hiccup continued, "In the Halls of Valhalla, where the brave may live forever."

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors. And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from evil. Amen."

He kissed her fiercely, "I will see you, one way or another, on the other side of this."

"I know…" she pressed her mouth back against his before pulling back so that their hands were threaded in each other's hair, "I love ye, Hiccup. I'm thankful we've had the time we've gotten…but ye must promise me, if me and Ivar face off, ye must stay away. He will use me against ye or the other way 'round, ye ken? Please."

He was nodding, but furious at the very thought.

"I must go," she whispered, "I need to collect the blade from the stones. Get everyone into position, I will be back in just a moment."

He wanted to argue, a thousand promises on his tongue, but he nodded anyway, again, "Come back safely, okay? I'll be waiting."

Neither moved from their embrace, breathing in the other.

Finally, using strength he didn't know he possessed, he extricated himself from her and nudged her towards the door, rasping, "Go."

She spared him one last glance before running from the room, her bow in her grip and her hair flowing behind her, appearing like some primordial goddess of darkness dressed in her black armor. Hiccup took deep breaths as he strapped his pointed helmet across his brow and left the memories of the shared room behind him, locking them away as he faced the battle ahead.

* * *

Saorsa cawed fitfully when Merida led her over the walls towards the woods. Her hands were shaking more than she'd like to admit, searching in her body for the comfort of magic that didn't seem to be there. She was spent, empty, and there was nothing more to be done about the situation than hope that Storm-Bringer would give her enough power to take on Ivar and his demon-hoard.

She cursed again, under her breath, hurrying her dragon onward. She knew how to break the curse between her and Hiccup, but she didn't have the time and opportunity to undo the knot that tied their lives together. She had no doubt that to take down the monster Ivar would mean the ultimate sacrifice and she refused to condemn her beloved and her dragon's mate to a fate that wasn't theirs.

She dismounted when Saorsa landed, skidding to a halt, as nervous as her rider. Merida's hand rose over the blade, black once again. When it was a few inches away, tendrils of electricity began reaching and pulsing towards her palm. Taking a deep breath, Merida gripped the hilt and gasped as the power rocketed through her, heat licking up her arm and through her entire body as it raced through her blood. She could feel her sight improve, her muscles and reaction time, every last nerve ending and cell amplified by the magic that pulsed in the blade made by her magic and Hiccup's skill.

She yanked it from the earth and thunder boomed above her head, despite it being a perfectly clear afternoon just a moment ago. She turned glowing eyes to her dragon, seeing her unease and peering around the caim, aglow once again with a magical power. Will-o-wisps appeared before each pillar, even the broken one, flickering like wild flames.

In a flash, there was her magical ancestresses—all those that came before her. Merida's eyes spun in search of one, landing on the young Moira, feeling a grin stretch across her face as they locked eyes.

_"__Unleash the storm," _she urged, her voice merely a whisper in Merida's head, _"We are with you." _

Above, lightning streaked across the sky as the rain began to fall heavily over DunBroch.

* * *

"Damn it all!" Fergus groused, seeing the rain begin to pour in earnest, "This will make things harder. Should have trusted my leg from the start..."

"Never had to fight in the rain, eh, Scot?" Stoick had picked up a good bit of their language in the short amount of time him and his people had been interacting with them.

"Och, shut it," Fergus muttered, bending to attach a grieve to his one shin, "The earth gets slick and before ye know it, we've got soldiers in full armor skiddin' across the muddy hills like a damn pig in a sty."

"My soldiers can fight in any weather," Stoick chuckled, "Can't yours?"

"Oi!" He stood, helmet in his hand, "Our kids are out there. Aren't ye…scared? Worried?"

Stoick stared at him, chewing on the words he'd spoken incomprehensibly.

"Yer son and my daughter? Hiccup and Merida?"

"Do not worry about them, Hiccup will protect his—" he continued but Fergus could not decipher his words.

"Aye, but he's still just a lad, a wee one at that, no offense," he wasn't sure how much the other man would catch with his speed, "How much can he really protect? I had hoped…"

They lapsed into confused silence on both ends, Fergus unsure to say and Stoick having lost the thread of communication between them.

Finally, the Viking took the Scotsman shoulder in his grip, "I am…"

They locked eyes as he struggled, Fergus growing uncomfortable but wanting to know what he was trying to say.

"I am honored," he finally concluded, "To fight and die with ye."

Fergus smiled and gripped the other man back, "And I, ye."

They shared a moment of camaraderie before the battle would wage and tear them from their bodies with its violence and demand for sacrifice. Stoick would revisit that blackened haze of the berserker state and Fergus would allow his lifetime of training to dissociate mind from body so that he can do what he must to protect his home and family. It was like slipping into a pair of old shoes, worn but still uncomfortable, aching but still familiar.

Another trumpet sounded and the moment was broken, their attention torn away and gazes reaching towards the blackening horizon.

"They come."

"Aye."

"I have lived well," he sighed, "A good woman, a son better than myself. I am not afraid to die."

"If ye do, know that I will look out for yer boy and Valka. They will want for nothing."

"Thank ye," he swore, "I shall take Merida as mine, yer home and family protected, should ye be lost."

The wording was strange, but Fergus did not hold against him, "I appreciate it."

Stoick lifted his massive war hammer, banging it against the ground as Fergus sheathed his newly sharpened blade, thanks to the blond, multi-handed blacksmith. They both took up shields and moved forward, as one force, to greet the enemy.

In their hearts, the hearts of rulers, they feared not for themselves, but for their people.

* * *

Ivar bounced up and down, unable to contain his excitement. He was riding a Monstrous Nightmare and using its eyes as his own as he followed Bjorn and Hvitserk, asking how close they were every three minutes or so. He knew he was trying their patience, but they were trying his—he was so close to his Merida he could taste her magic on the air.

When lightning and thunder cracked above them like a warning from Thor himself, he had laughed outright and starting screaming at the sky. His brothers asked if he could somehow stop the storm, but he reveled in it, its promise of destruction and violence that would help the blood soak into the mud and the bones would be consumed in the moors. He didn't know if his magic was able to stop hers in its path, but he didn't even want to try—he liked this side of her, the assurance of her power.

"Let it rage!" He cried, chortling, "Let us destroy the surface of this earth! Let us bring about the end of times!"

He could feel the eyes of many on him, dragon and human alike, but he ignored them. He knew that Merida was powerful, but that power was growing and swelling into something truly dangerous—when he made her his, they would turn the sky to fire and the earth to ice.

"Ivar!" His brother demanded his attention, "We approach!"

"Ah," he knew, he saw it through the eyes of the hundreds of dragons he controlled, "I see their walls. They are weak."

"Are we ready?"

He could barely hear them over the roar of the rain, creating deep puddles.

"Ready enough," he giggled, unable to contain himself, "Let it be known! The redheaded _Völva _is mine! Should anyone lay a hand on her, be prepared to lose it!"

His dragon snapped and snarled in threat—even under the onslaught from the heavens, Monstrous Nightmare gel was flammable. His neck and back erupted in flames, covering him, setting himself ablaze, but he didn't feel the burn, protected by his own magical craft.

"Take the castle! Spare the dragons!" Hvitserk called to their army of mindless slaves and hired mercenaries.

Like puppets, he pushed all of those under his sway forward, screaming and spewing fire and swinging their blades. Even if mortally wounded they would continue to fight, nothing would deter them from breaking down the feeble walls and dragging his beloved to him.

The war has begun.

* * *

"Dragons, to your stations!" Gobber hollered, "Keep these walls standing! Do not let them near the gate!"

"Teams One and Three, with me!" Valka motioned as she and her Storm-Cutter took to the skies to fight off the dragons that were beginning to descend.

"Minimize the damage to the castle!" Hiccup took up his old riders, leadership a familiar yoke around his throat, "Keep the dragons in the sky! Do not let them land! If you see the blind kid, the pale one from before, _do not engage!_"

They wanted revenge, it was obvious in their wide and furious eyes.

"His head belongs to Merida—!" He ignored Fishleg's indignant cry, "He will steal your dragon or maybe your own mind, I mean it!"

Thunder cracked above them and Toothless warbled in excitement. He was about to tell Toothless to search for his mate, to seek out Saorsa in a desperate attempt to find Merida, having no doubt that the sudden storm was her magic. He could taste autumn on his tongue, apples mixed with ozone and rain, her signature.

"Hiccup!" Astrid screamed above the din, "If this keeps up, we'll have to land the dragons!"

"That may be for the best," he cried, "It will even the field! Ready your weapons and protect your dragons!"

Toothless cried in pleasure with the lightning that raced above them.

"I will see you on the other side of this!" He swore and they all bowed to him in respect, for his gift of flight, his position as once-leader, his friendship to them.

He turned tail and went in search for his lost princess when Toothless gave another warble. He leaned close to ask him what he could see when his own enhanced eyes caught a shadow within the great clouds above them, fattened with rain. He spun them in circles, eyes scanning the underbelly of the sky when Merida appeared with another crack of lightning.

He gasped when he saw her eyes, iris and pupil completely blended into a glowing mass that eclipsed her usually azure gaze. Her hands and eyes appeared to crackle and shoot off sparks, completely covered in her mass of strength.

"I see you have your magic back," he breathed, somehow sure she'd hear even a whisper.

"Aye," it echoed all around him, in the clouds, in his mind, behind his eyes, "I am full with the strength of my ancestors, all those that came before me."

"Are you…" he swallowed, eyeing her strange form, "Okay?"

She laughed and electric pulses seemed to swell around the fat clouds they hid in, "I am endless in this form, Hiccup. I will finish this."

"Please," he swallowed, "Be safe, still. For me, for us?"

She tilted her head like she didn't understand his language before nodding and steering her dragon nearer. Saorsa and Toothless flapped their great wings in perfect tandem, nudging each other and cooing in greeting.

"Fear not, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," her voice was hers but not, an echo of something older and foreign, "She does not stand alone."

"I am with her, too! Others stand by her side!" He didn't understand why he felt that was necessary to emphasize, but he did. He couldn't stand on the same field as her, but he would still fight in her name, would still kill for her.

"I know," her voice was hers again, "I am with ye, and ye with me."

And she was gone, soaring off into the dark clouds for cover, her magic ringing in his ears as he raced after to shoot from above and help her in her slay the monster that was closing in. He knew Ivar would appear soon in search of Merida and he refused to let her face down that monster alone. He knew she warned him to stay away, to keep further from him because he couldn't fight against magic—but how could he let her be alone when she faced down a monster?

But for now, he would keep himself content with firing at the mindless dragons below, apologizing quietly for every loss he incurred, all the blood on his hands. Toothless' shots were perfect, as always, impaling a small group of Timberjacks onto the broken splinters of the trees Toothless uprooted with his plasma blasts.

He could see Astrid and Fishlegs hunting several Singtails, trapping them before Astrid finishes the job. Fishlegs took a forward role that shocked him, but he knew the loss of his parents had unleashed a rage in him that he had only seen when Meatlug was in danger. He couldn't help but flinch when they were beheaded, knowing it was an inevitability of war but hating to see it done. He hoped that it hurt them too, or feared that the bloodlust he had tamed years ago would resurface and lead to the Berkians attempting to overcome the Four Clans.

But those were the fears of the future—he had more than enough troubles in the present.

Blasts struck across the sky, staining the gray clouds red and orange and blue and purple as each class of dragon clashed against each other. Poisons spat in the eyes of Vikings, Scotsmen burned alive, dragons cut down and maimed by hammers and axes and swords. The din was deafening, heard over the crashing of the rain and storm around him, the screams pulling him in different directions. One part of him demanded he side with the creatures he nurtured and adored throughout most of his adult life, the other part beseeching him to help those that have never stood against the pulsing shockwave of the Flightmare or the blistering heat of a Singetail.

But there was really only one opponent—he should do as he was told, a part of him knew that he should seek out the best way to minimize the damage done to both sides without engaging against Ivar. But he was the catalyst of this horror, the central figure in which all the destruction spun around, the nucleus that suspended the pivoting warfare. He knew that if he stopped Ivar, the death would stop and that was all that mattered—Merida would deliver the finishing blow, but he deserved his own licks.

Steering Toothless around in circles, he sought out the unearthly pale specter of the Viking boy. A sharp displacement of air behind him had Toothless screeching and whipping around to seek out the movement. The clouds parted, billowing away from the massive wings of a Typhoomarang. Hissing under his breath at the mop of white hair that was barely visible around the massive neck of the dragon. They circled around each other, the monstrous little demon smiling at him with a mouth full of yellowed teeth and eyes that were milky white. Hiccup felt his lips tear across his teeth in a snarl, his dragon cawed in rage with a mouth full of deathly plasma.

"Take your dragons and go," the boy called over the rain, "I will not follow. I do not want you."

"If you think I'd abandon my people and my dragons, you've got another thing coming!" He screamed, voice raw with hatred—so potent and hot he swore his throat could produce flames.

His pale face contorted into a sneer, "So noble! I only came for Merida. Leave before you no longer can."

"I don't care what you came for! The only thing you'll get is a sword through your chest!"

"Ooh," he mocked him like the child he was, "So scary!"

Toothless shot off a blast with his soft command, rocketing past the larger dragon's massive wingspan to skitter across the clouds and create shockwaves behind them, mimicking thunderclaps that boomed around them. Creating a rush by keeping the larger dragon flapping wildly, Toothless had no cloud cover to duck beneath to retreat and attempt to take advantage of. They ended up on a high speed chase that the child had no chance of escaping from, the wing power and speed of the Nightfury still unmatched, neither rider nor dragon pausing at the loss that would incur once Toothless finally struck the Typhoomerang. It screeched, the putrid smell of burnt scales and wing-membrane cutting through the rain as they plummeted, Hiccup alarmed to see the boy laughing as they dropped.

The larger dragon crashed without any resistant, bashing its head open and spilling gray matter across the bloody battlefield. Several soldiers were not fast enough to escape the expanse of razor-sharp wings as it skidded against the ground, sliced clean through to lay in equal halves around them. The carnage should make him gag, but he only had red-filled gaze for Ivar, the closest to a berserker state he had ever reached.

He didn't just want him dead—no, the boy needed to suffer. He wanted to tear him apart, render him piece by piece until he was nothing but a magically screaming head that Hiccup kept like Odin and Mimir. He wanted retribution in the form of blood and gore, he wanted to plunge his blade into the soft underbelly of the child, let him bleed out. A part of him screamed and howled that he remember that the boy was handling more than dragon fire, was far more dangerous than he could even comprehend—but it was drowned out by the din of battle, the screams and cries of his people and dragons, the squelching of metal into giving flesh.

The boy clambered down the corpse of the dragon, eyes a haunting purple that made Hiccup pause as he unsheathed his sword. He was attempting to spin some magics through him, attempting to take over his mind and body—he could feel his influence like oil across his skin. But it didn't seem to stick and he was growing more frustrated as both him and Toothless squared off for a battle that now seemed swayed heavily in their favor.

"Why won't you submit to me?!" He stomped his booted feet, white eyes blinking the smoke from around them.

"Because," he released a spray of Zippleback gas, "We are Alphas and bow to no man or dragon."

He sparked it and Ivar was thrown back with a cry, Hiccup thanking Merida and whatever spell she had woven across him that was protecting him and his dragon. The pale beast got up with some difficulty and suddenly, the dragons all around them turned deadened eyes towards the two Berk riders.

"Shit," there was no way to advance without being attacked by a dozen different blasts, the earth under his feet shaking from a herd of Whispering Deaths.

He leapt on a twitching Toothless and shot into the sky, dragons on their heels. He dispatched two Gronckles, praying for them under his breath when an arrow landed in the eye of Deadly Nadder and sent it screaming to the ground. Merida's long hair was visible across the sky, the only part of her not covered by her dark armor, her glass eyes glinting in the fires raging below.

"We must end this," he coughed, when he razed his helm, "It's going on too long…we'll fail if we don't!"

She nodded, face streaked with soot, "I will'nae fail."

"Let me come with you."

"No!" She nocked another arrow, "I will end what I started—And then we will pick up the pieces. Together."

However, when she shot across the sky, he was on Saorsa's tail. Throughout the entire battle, Toothless' mind was in constant disarray, his worry pulsing and pouring into Hiccup. And in return, his rider fed him rage and hatred that neither one of them were used to feeling. But now, rider and dragon were in perfect sync as they refused to let their mates face such danger alone.

Merida landed silently, firing two arrows that scared away several dragons as she unlaced her legs from the saddle. She unsheathed her black sword, Hiccup landing behind her right as lightning cracked from the sky to touch the tip of her blade and the rain suddenly stopped falling, the mud the only reminder that it had been there just moments before. The battlefield stilled as she plunged the tip into the earth, an unearthly vision, a Valkyrie in human skin, eyes aglow and promising danger. She felt primordial, infinite, like not even death could dare touch her. Power pulsed along ever fingertip and hair and she was a monster in human skin, a dragon without name or place, a deity conformed to flesh. It burned the inside of skin hotter than the flames around her and she wondered if, oddly, the use of this magic would end her, as it most certainly could have and would if she were asked to wield it some simple months ago. There was something demonic in her heart, a coldness that ached against the heat of her magic that pulsed in her blood.

"We end this," she promised, "Now. Bring me Ivar!"

The dragons stilled, the zombie like soldiers stepping away to stop the noise. He could see her eyes crackle with sparks of electrical power, eclipsed in a glowing blue hum that set his teeth on edge and his hair raised from his skin.

There was rush of movement, a triumphant cry piercing the sudden, unnerving silence, "My bride!"

She didn't move from her position as he stood across from her, flanked by two other men. The boy clapped his hands, giddy, laughing and pleased.

"Did I not tell you, brothers? Is she not a vision?!"

"I am Merida," she spat, "Of Clan DunBroch. Ye have invaded us once, but ye will'nae again. I seek to end this."

"All we want is—!" Bjorn wanted money, land, gold, a name that would live on for the rest of eternity. It was as obvious on his face as if he spoke it.

"You!" Ivar cried, "Come with us and we'll go. No fuss! Promise," he grinned his crooked grin and she tipped her head to the side to watch him.

"As?"

"I want you as my bride, I have told you this. Give up and come with us and we will leave this horrible little world to face our destruction. We will—!"

She held up her hand, effectively ignoring him as she turned to the larger blond man, "I am askin' ye, ruler to another—leave this place, stop this madness and bloodshed."

"Leave the castle and your dragons and we will consider keeping the women and children," he shrugged, "They will be raised as ours, in our name and ways."

"No deal," Hiccup spat, "If you do not leave now, we will not leave one of you alive to infect others."

"You disgusting little worm," the brown haired one, splattered in blood, swore, "I will slaughter you where you stand!"

He brandished his sword and Hiccup drew his own blade, lighting it ablaze with Monstrous Nightmare gel. The man blinked before grinning, but was held back further by the eldest.

"Let me be clear," Merida spat, "I am wed already and—!"

_"__What?!_"

The earth shook, the trees shaking and the dragons all began to scream and spew fire and molten lava in fury, hitting others and themselves as well as humans. They flailed, necks cracking and breaking against claws and teeth and hide, cawing as men and Shield Maidens scrambled backwards from the reckless spray of molten fire.

"Ivar!" Bjorn lifted his shield to avoid losing an arm, Hvitserk attacking several berserk dragons. They attacked everything and anyone, trees and humans and each other, slaughtering mindlessly without any abandon in a way that made Hiccup gag.

Merida was quicker than the chaos, dropping the blade for her trusty bow—two shots fired and one brother was dead while the eldest was pinned through the shoulder. Hiccup grappled with a Rumblehorn, Toothless' blast ripping a hole in it as it keened once, loudly, before succumbing to an uneasy death. Hiccup tackled her to the ground when a Razorwhip spewed spiked scales in every direction, nearly missing her head and neck as they tumbled in a heap of limbs.

"Off!" She seethed as all the air was driven from the impact, demanding as he rolled to hop back to his feet, her blade suddenly in his hands as he blocked a downward swing from the eldest brother.

The screaming of Ivar somehow echoed around them, in their ears as well as their heads, louder even than the dragons. Bjorn was without one sword-arm, but he didn't need it to be a formidable opponent. He swung recklessly, far larger than Hiccup, making him continuously retreat.

He swung downward, Hiccup ducking and rolling to the side when his father rushed to take up arms with the large man.

"Son! Are ye alright?!"

"Fine!" He screamed back, his arms shaking and weak but not damaged.

Seeing Stoick the Vast fight was like watching Gobber work metal—it was a skill honed to a razor sharp edge. With his beast of a war-hammer, he began to beat back Bjorn, his powerful swings enough to split his head open and break any bone. With his father handling his attacker, Hiccup turned his attention back to Merida.

Ivar had approached, his magic tumbling across his skin as wildly as Merida's. He threw powerful bolts that had driven Saorsa to the ground and Merida was only able to keep at bay with some kind of shield. His entire being was slowly consumed by his hate-filled screeching, attempting to destroy Merida so that not even a strand of her curls remained. Another blast sent her trembling to her knees, her helmet discarded in the dirt, lenses broken.

He was moving before he knew he was, swinging the blade with practiced movements to maim and slaughter. He caught the demon's arm, shearing a chunk of flesh away from bone before he was bodily thrown into a tree. His head bounced against the trunk, his own helm being dislodged with the impact and he cursed as white spots clouded his already hindered vision.

His dragon screeched, rage in his heart and in his blood and he was on his feet again. He could feel the urge to _protect _thrumming loudly in his veins, knowing that the blackened sword in his hands had the strength that Merida was lacking. She needed him and he needed to get to her, quickly.

He moved around a Nadder, slicing clean through its neck with a quiet apology. It slumped to the ground and he went through four more dragons to reach her side, pressing the hilt of her sword into her weak hand. She raised tired eyes to him, tears dripping down her cheeks from strain and the constant smoke and soot and ash that surrounded them from the battle.

He was crying for the same reason and she surged forward, him expecting her mouth to seek his but finding her pressing her soppy cheek to his own.

Something coiled in him was undone—a knot untied, making him quake and heave in the dirt, sagging under a pull in his gut that made him feel as though he weighed more than a Bewilderbeast.

"What did you _do?!"_

She stared down at him, her face smudged and pained, "Two saltwater streams, ay, laddie?"

"Oh, for Thor's sake," he spat hoarsely, struggling to get to his feet.

"Stay," she commanded, "'Tis my time."

And she stood with all the fluid grace of a soldier goddess, a queen meant to survive on death and destruction instead of glittering gowns and golden tiaras. Her sword winked dully in the sporadic spurts of fire that erupted from the dragons still under the control of the ghastly boy Ivar. His arm had a nasty gash that was the only color on his unearthly pale body, his stark white against Merida's black armor a contrast in the din of a battle quickly erupting into a chaotic chasing and hunting from both dragon and man.

"You dare—!" He stomped his feet and waved his arms, "You defy me?!"

"Yes, ye bastard little heathen," she rolled her neck and shoulders, "Yer brothers are dead and yer army is slowly disintegratin' to nothing. Even still, with yer defeat assured, I can'nae let ye live…"

"I am _eternal!_" He screamed, the earth shaking and making some dragons and men around them fall to their knees, "I am the bringer of Ragnarok, the end of days!_ I am a god!" _

"Nay," she glowered with a sigh, "Ye are a child. And ye were never taught the dangers of fallin' so deeply into magic that ye fused with it. Ye are only as good as what ye do, ye are only as powerful as who ye help. Ye are deranged and maddened, like a rabid dog."

The sword lifted in preparation, "And I must put ye down."

He ran, bolting into the woods and leaving the dragons to fight his battle. With her blade in her hand, her power seemed fully restored, eyes crackling that same dangerous white-blue hue. With a wave, they were downed, necks agape with grins that spilled steaming blood into the smoky air and she was chasing the boy down.

Saorsa gave a warbling cry of distress, her back leg mangled, unable to chase after her. Toothless keened lowly, keeping the female prostrate as Hiccup assessed the painful carnage around him. True as Merida had said, the destruction was coming to a close—the puppets were being slaughtered with far more ease now that the boy had lost his control. The corpse of Hvitserk lay in the dirt, one eye open and the other full with the point of an arrow. Bjorn was dead as well, his head and brain smashed inwards by his father's massive battle-axe, nearly unrecognizable save for the painfully tight blond braids that seemed to stretch across the earth like rays of the sun.

He saw Astrid, her arm was bleeding but she was fine as she approached on the back of Stormfly. Her face was red and full of tears, but that could have been the smoke that filled the air around them. The forrest was burning, the gate had been destroyed but the castle still stood, scorched but without too much damage. They needed to begin putting out the fires, but his heart and head were deep in the dark wood with Merida.

Astrid sagged when she slipped from her saddle, her axe lost somewhere, "We've won, but it came with a cost."

His eyes closed painfully, "Who?"

"Fishlegs," she gave a little sob, "Ruffnut."

He took her in his arms, smelling the salt of her tears and the smoke of her dragon.

"They are with Odin," he choked, "In the halls of Valhalla."

"I know it," she stood back on shaking knees, "Where is Merida? And Ivar?"

"The coward ran," he spat, "She pursued him, I have to follow. Watch Toothless and Saorsa, alright? She's hurt and I wont ask him to leave her."

She gave a little smile, "Of course. I'll get the water dragons on the fires."

He took her shoulder in his hand, "You will be the chieftess we need and deserve, Astrid."

She nodded, once, eyes sharp and hard as the scales of her beloved Stormfly, "I know. And you will be the man she needs—go!"

He needed no other prompting, running faster now that his amputated leg didn't hinder him so much. The ease of his movement made him remember her help and her skin under his hands, the moonlight in her hair, the briefest of intimate moments shared between them. Although she had undone the spell that held their lives together, he could not bear the thought of her dying and leaving him to fly the world alone.

"No," he swore, throat tight and hot from his emotions and the inhalation of smoke, "No, no, no!"

His eyes were good enough to pick up the trail in the forrest, leading him surely towards the two. However, he found himself turned around and cursed the darkness and the looming trees that seemed to close in tighter and tighter the faster he tried to find the broken limps and rushes they stomped through before him.

_'__Come!…Here!'_

His eyes whipped around in the darkness, spotting the little blue flame that winked and waved invitingly to him. His knees buckled with the relief as more lit up a path that began to spiral upwards towards the higher parts of the woods. He took off at a sprint, their call weakened in his head but still loud and clear—they promised to lead him where he needed to go, they swore to take him to Merida.

He shouldn't have been surprised where they took him—back to the stones where Merida probably had herded the boy. He was bleeding more profusely now, more shallow cuts where she had lunged and gotten close. He had found a blade himself along the way and was holding his own against one of the best fighters Hiccup had ever known, his father and Astrid included.

Merida swung again, meeting his blade with a cry that eclipsed the clanging of metal against metal. Their eyes were inhuman, ungodly, his purple against her blue. Their attacks were equal parts magic and blade, swinging, attacking, retreating and advancing in a step that seemed almost like a dance. If the boy truly was blind, which Hiccup had no believe that he was, he could move around this impediment with an ease that was definitely aided by the magic in his blood.

"I don't understand," he coughed, looking around the ring, "Why wont you come with me? Don't you see that we were meant to be together?!"

"Why one Thor's earth would ye ever think such a thing?!" She screeched, voice raw, lunging after his retreating form. She was lithe and fast, but the boy was proving to be a quicker target.

"Because, I've never met someone like you! Even now, I can't see you the way I can others! I see the blank, empty minds of those that simper and go about their lives, never seeing the magic that we have! No one is like us! No one is like you! I want you! It's not fair!"

If he was any more emotional, he would have tossed his sword in the dirt. Merida growled, her hair having come undone to wave around her body in the breeze, the smell of smoke still sharp in the night air.

"Ye slaughtered my brethren, my clan and kin," she heaved, chest rising and falling, "Ye invaded my home and threatened my people and my love. How could ye think that our magic makes us anything alike? All ye do is destroy!"

His head cocked, "So…if I made things for you, you'd love me and come with me?"

"I will never love ye," she called into the darkness, "I love only one, a man who has fought and protected me from others and myself! Fate brought us together, but it was our choice to trust one another! He earned my heart, every last wee bit of it and I can'nae dare to think to give it to another soul."

He bared his teeth, "But I want you! I can love you better than he can! We understand each other in a way that no other could! Why don't you see that?!"

"I don't need ye to understand me, or my love," her voice was a sigh on the wind, "I just need ye dead."

She lunged again and the fight was back on, neither one giving in or backing down. The screech of wings suddenly drew their attention away from each other, the sound of a Nighfury's wings making them pause.

"I gave her to you, you know?" He rasped, Hiccup's ears straining to listen from his place hidden in the darkness.

"What?"

"She was mine—her mind was under my sway, I found her all alone on island, dying," he swung and she blocked, pushing his sword away, "I saved her! And when she got close to you, her mind was freed. How did you do it?"

"I do—I do'nae know," she huffed, "Like I said…mayhaps fate intervened again on her behalf. Maybe this was all planned, from the beginning—yer birth to this war, every step was destined to be."

"I think you have more power than you know, I think you could have freed all my dragons but you didn't bother to try, you just killed them."

"No…"

He began to go on the offensive, his words and blade in synchronizing strokes against Merida.

_"__I think," _he snarled, "That you only care about a few things, even though you claim to care so much about everyone! I think you could have saved all the lives I took, dragon and human, but you didn't feel like trying!"

"No!"

The clanging escalated, their strokes more frenzied and dangerous. The metal glinted under the moon and Hiccup held his breath—he was there only if she need him. This was her revenge, owed to her from the destruction Ivar and his brothers wrought.

"I think," he was in her head now, worming his way through the defenses she had, "You are a spoiled little weak brat that only cares about herself!"

She screamed in fury and launched herself at him, ducking his swing and slicing clean through his leg. He fell with a panicked and pained scream that filled the air around him, but Hiccup felt an odd peace settle over him.

_'__It's done,'_ it promised him, _'We'll be free…'_

She poised the tip of her blade at his throat. In that moment, the cold bit of her chest seized and spasmed, traveling across her chest and down her arms, filling her with ice. It was relief to the electric pulsing in her blood and it hardened her resolve to stone. She would have him dead and carry his head back to DunBroch where she would pin it to the gates as proof of the power of her and her homeland. He would die and be done with the horrors he wrought and it would be by her hand.

"Die, ye sick bastard," and she slit his throat with one mighty blow.

She stumbled back, dropping the blade as she realized all the horror it had brought down upon her enemies, the blood that was sticking to the hilt and pommel and dripping down to join the puddle around the boy.

"Merida," Hiccup called triumphantly as he entered the sacred circle, proud beyond words.

She turned, a smile on her mouth that lit her face. Then she stumbled with a curse, spinning on unsteady feet. His heart stuttered and he called her name like a prayer as she fell forward, a Nadder spine in her left shoulder.

She fell to face a suddenly grinning Ivar.

"If I can't have you," he wheezed his last words, blood pouring from his grinning neck, "No—one…can…"

Hiccup spotted the dragon, the color of pine needles and oak leaves, flick its head left and right in confusion before it sauntered off into the woods, no longer controlled by the demon Ivar. It had been deathly silent and the same color of the surrounding trees, able to hide in the sweltering darkness.

"No," Hiccup was crying in earnest now, picking Merida up into his arms, "No, no, no…"

He had no antidote, no way to get or make any before she would long be departed from this world. Toothless and a limping Saorsa appeared from across them in the stones, her dragon screaming as it laughing itself unsteadily at her shaking body.

The Nadder had aimed true—as close to her heart that would soon leave it paralyzed and cold and silent forever. He tore it free to stop the release of any more venom into her bloodstream.

"Please," he stared up at the moon, the stones, the dragons, begging, "Please…someone! Please, help me!"

He pressed his shaking body against hers, "Please…help me, tell me how to fix this…Anyone…I'll do anything…"

He remembered, dimly, the chant that had begun all this and began reciting it against her chilled cheek.

"Fate be changed, look above—to see a bond forged in blood," he panted, not knowing what else to do or try.

"Fate—!" He choked, "Fate be changed! Look above! To see a bond, forged in blood!"

He chanted it twice more before seeing a figure appear in the darkness, a glowing blue that reminded him of another that had approached him in the woods long ago.

"It is a good idea, boy-o," she hummed, "But ye are missin' the crucial bit."

"Help—help her," he sobbed, "Please…I'll do anything."

"Ye promised me that once before, ye know," she hummed, "D'ye remember what I gave ye?"

"Another chance," he begged, "Please, tell me what to do."

She knelt to the still form of Merida, now gray and pallid, her chest jumping with shaky, small breaths that spelled a painful death.

"Take her dragons blood and feed it to her," she demanded, eyes bright, "We shall handle the rest."

"We?"

He sniffed as he stood, seeing that there were other ghostly figures that surrounded them. He fell to his knees before the crying Saorsa, rubbing the flat planes of her head soothingly. Toothless was inconsolable as well, prowling in painful circles with a mouth full of plasma that had no intended target.

"I can help her," he sobbed, "But I need your help, too."

She blinked big, sunny eyes at him, the gold rings dark in the moonlight. Her cheeks were wet with the acidic tears of a dragon, nearly corrosive to human flesh, but he couldn't care as he cupped her wide face in his hands, no physical pain equal to the panic in him.

"Toothless gave his life to me, forged a bond," he whispered, "Through his sacrifice, I lived. If…I know you haven't been with Merida as long, but you can be with her still. I just need your blood."

She produced her front leg without hesitation and he took Merida's little dented blade from his thigh holder, nicking deeply despite the warning growl of Toothless at his back. He cupped the dark blood that slipped through her claws, nearly black as oil, in his hands, bringing it back carefully to the fallen body of his love.

"There now, easy lad," the young version of Moira encouraged as he fed the blue lips of Merida the dark dragon blood. He pulled stained fingers away from her equally messy mouth, looking up at the phantom that promised her.

"Good," she smiled, "Now stand back."

_'__Fate be changed,'_ all twelve figures chanted, nearly making his eardrums burst with the noise of it. He covered them as the dragons cawed painfully, hearing more than he could dare to.

_'__Look above!'_

The air seemed to be sweltering, power radiating between Merida's body and her dragon. She seized twice, making him wince as she flailed before he pinned her body down with the promise that the pain would stop. It hadn't hurt him, at least he didn't remember it hurting him—he was reinvigorated, empowered and made stronger than before. What was happening to her?

'_To make a bond,' _Moira's blue hand fell against Merida's forehead, making her open eyes glow as if she was still full of magical power.

_'__Forged in blood!'_

She gasped, raised from the ground as if stolen from the grip of Hela herself. She turned on her side and coughed, painfully, while he pulled her limply to him and rocked her as he cried.

"Thank you," he told Moira, who smiled, "Thank the gods and thank you."

She nodded her head, staring at Merida who reached for her ghostly body.

"The next time I see ye," Moira promised with a bright cackle, "Ye will look just as old as I did!"

And in a blink, the forms were gone and the only light was the moon above them. Merida was still gasping and sucking air in at an alarming rate, Hiccup still sobbing nearly uncontrollably.

"We did—it…" she touched his wet cheek, "We won."

They fell together, her in his arms, staring up at the cloudy sky, the moon winking from behind the clouds.

"It's over," he chanted, "It's all over."

She agreed, softly, pressing close to him as she fell unconscious. His eyes met Toothless', who was tucked against the side of Saorsa, who wanted desperately to approach but was hindered by her injury.

Then he too succumbed to the call of the darkness, letting it pull him under.

* * *

Epilogue up next.


	18. Epilogue

**Well, here we are at the end. **

**I do not own_ Brave _or _HTTYD. _**

* * *

Epiloge: Freedom

Six Months Later

Merida sat on top of the Crone's Tooth, smiling as she leaned back into her hands. The front of her dress was still wet from her sloshing the near frigid waters against her as she drank from the Fire Falls, the last chance she'd have for some time to achieve such a feat. She had shucked her long coat at the bottom of the gorge and she felt the lack of warmth but didn't want to miss the blazing glory of the sunset rivaling even the brightness of her own hair.

The scream of wings were approaching and she knew that Hiccup was probably half out of his mind with worry. Since the war, he clung a bit to closely and fussed a bit too much over small things. He had gotten much better over the course of their time together, but every once in a while she needed to escape from her husband.

They had no ceremony, no words or stuffy dresses or robes. She took his hand before her bloodied father after the battle and declared them wed, which he took as a shock but agreed that he was a fine choice for a partner and he would not argue with the child that assured their victory against Ivar and the Bloody Brothers.

She waved at him as he flew by, swinging Toothless in a wide circle to approach her. The horse that she had ridden was below, giving a whinny of concern and prancing in agitation that a dragon was so near to it.

She stood and brushed her dress off, long to soothe her mother's nerves—worse now than ever before with her departure so soon—blowing his annoyed face a kiss.

"I've been looking for you for hours," he groused, "I was worried."

"Ye worry too much," she shrugged, "I felt the need to achieve the impossible. Ye ready for tomorrow? All packed?"

"Yes," he rolled his eyes, "Although I still think we should wait until the spring thaw."

She hummed, "I think it's time we set out on our own, don'cha' think?"

He gave her an lopsided grin, "I wouldn't mind a little island of our own."

"How about…four islands?"

"I'll give you any you want."

She threw her head back and laughed, her hands on her hips.

"How about givin' a lass a ride down, then? Or shall I jump?"

"No!" He laughed, uneasily at her poised body, not liking her joke, "No, just get on the damn dragon, woman."

"As my husband wishes," she bowed and gracefully pranced across Toothless' outstretched wing like a bridge, settling behind the rider. Her hands wrapped around his waist and he leaned back to give her a single chaste kiss.

"How about a ride across the sunset?" He offered, not wanting to share her.

"How about a thousand?" She sighed, running her nose along the column of his throat.

"I'll give you all of them," he swore softly and she sighed against him as the dragon soared across the bay, into the open ocean near the setting sun.

"To the end of the world," she promised.

"And back," he finished, relishing in her closeness.

This was the way it would be, he swore.

From now until the end.

* * *

As it turns out, they traveled for nearly six years before finding an island near enough, yet far enough, to DunBerk—the new colonies now completely integrated and ruled by Fergus and Stoick the Vast, Queen Elinor and Astrid leading by the sides of the men. Valka had returned to her travels, hurting Stoick but they remained amicable and Hiccup hoped for a reunion one day. It was as Merida had seen it, clans and peoples mixed in a peace that was incredibly powerful and their lands prospering more than ever since they had bound themselves together through bloodshed and eventual peace.

Hiccup enlisted Gobber and the help of dragons to erect a house that any man or woman would be proud of. Hiccup could make just about anything he wanted and he wanted to give Merida a home that rivaled her castle, a wooden hut that was a testament to their time together. On the central wall of the main room, across from the hearth, he carved the map he had slowly created across the wood. He carved her home and his and the creation of the new one, adding their little island with striations that drew the eye to show that, when you stood in their home, _you were here_.

Dragons flocked from every direction to join the island of the alpha Toothless and his mate. They had already had six hatchlings, usually around three or four Nightfuries each year without fail, and the island was starting to fill with the dark, salamander like bodies that took several years to grow to maturation. Merida was a brood mother to every dragon, who would usually lead her to their nest and let her play and coo over the new clutch of eggs that were sure to hatch soon.

Her magic grew slowly, but was still a force to be reckoned with. One one trip visiting home, she had put up a thick barrier that hid DunBerk from all those that would attempt to harm it. Gobber stayed on the island with his adoptive son and wife, working diligently in the forge heated constantly with dragon fire.

Some time later, when he was beginning to go gray and become more stooped, Merida approached him with a proposition—Grump loved him and would be his forever, if he wanted to join with the dragon than Merida could easily complete the spell that would ensure that the old man would be alive for many years to come. He denied her, claiming he had lived too many years as is, but was convinced by Hiccup who wanted the large man to meet those that would happily call him grandpa.

But magic, as Merida would come to realize, had a dear price. She realized after many years that her body was no longer able to give the man she loved children. She had offered to leave him, let him have a life without her and find another bride that could keep his line going for more generations.

"Don't be ridiculous," he had replied to her teary admission, "Come sit down before dinner gets cold."

Fate was already beginning to intervene, as it was so prone to do. They often visited the growing clan that was the combination of their families, glad to see their friends while they traded goods and services for more bags of apples than Toothless could carry on his own. Hiccup had, unsuccessfully tried to plant her an orchard, but dragons found the flowers irritating to their noses and they had to be dug up after a few years of flaming dragon boogers nearly burning their house down.

On one such visit, Merida found a babe crawling in the mud, a stump where it's left foot should have been. She knelt and lifted his dirty body from the ground without thinking about who's child it could have been as she wiped at its cheek.

A woman, much younger than she, came rushing forward.

"I'm sorry, my Lady!" She squawked, "For lackin' a leg, he moves faster than any of the others!"

She saw a collection of dirty faces peering up at her, nearly twenty.

"Are they all…yers?"

"What? Oh! Oh, no," she chuckled, "I help run the orphanage."

"Orphanage?"

"Sure," she shrugged, "Parents die, y'know. Dragons may not attack anymore, but illness still lingers and poverty leads to some babes being dropped off at our doorstep. He was given up because…well…ye see."

She looked at his little stump, obviously something born and not done to him. She stared at his eyes, blue as the sky and with a bright mop of red hair that reminded her of her own wee brothers.

"Are they any others?" She found herself asking, "Without limbs?"

"Not at the moment, no, just wee little Jamie there," she held out her arms for him, "I'll take him now, if it suits ye."

She tucked him closer, "Actually…I think I'll take this one off yer hands. And," she added, "Any others that don't have all their pieces. Send a Terrible Terror should any more come to ye."

And she picked up her dress and marched down the hill to the main bazaar where her husband was selling a few blades and a potions she had made.

"What did you find?" He barely looked up as she approached.

"Hiccup," she breathed and her tone made him glance at her, "Meet yer son, Jamie."

And that was the first of many. Their travels led them to plenty of isles with orphans that lacked body parts, either injured or maimed or simply born without. Hiccup constructed prosthetics for all of his children and after a few more years, Merida had the brilliant idea of enchanting them. First so that they would grow with the wearer or wouldn't fall off, but then more complicated spells that let them move and bend as if they were truly part of the body.

* * *

"…And years and years and years passed," the wheezing voice continued, a dozen or so pair of wide eyes watching her, enraptured, "The Isle was full of life and laughter! Dragon and humans had never been so close or so deeply understood by one another.

"Merida and Hiccup lived for centuries—their friends and family would eventually all bind themselves to dragons that kept them on the earth for greater lengths than anticipated. But after their children and their children's children, and their children's children's children had grown up strong and well, versed in smithing and magic both, they knew that their time had come to pass over into the next world.

"By that time, Saorsa and Toothless were as big as mountains! Each year they had a clutch of a hundred eggs or more, Nightfuries no longer extinct but flourishing on Blackheart Island. They followed their riders to the top of the mountain, where they finally ascended to the heavens where they remain.

"If you look up, when the sky is bright an full, you will see them—a pair of figures that stand and two swirling dragons, two pairs of mates that will never be separated. Some have heard that they are twins or fish—this is nonsense!" She banged her bear-headed staff against the wooden floor, making the children jump, "They are Merida and Hiccup and Toothless and Saorsa.

"It is their power that allows the island to be hidden from all except those who need us and it is their teaching that lead us to have a Binding ritual each year. Some of you probably have family or friends who will be participating in this year's ritual."

There were bobbing heads and some ventured information like, "My brother is!" and "My sister, too!"

She laughed heartily, "I know it! It is a big clutch this year, of dragons and men and women coming together. Are ye excited?"

There was clapping and cheering and many of the children devolved into spouting which dragon they would choose and how amazing it would be when they were finally allowed to fly and weild powerful magic like the ancestors of their home and village.

"Mother," a voice called outside the dark hut, the door opened to reveal a man that was dark haired and bearded, black armor across his chest, "Mother, the time comes. Is everyone ready?"

The children gave another cheer of glee and went scurrying around the mans legs-one very much his own and one of dark black metal-and into the village that was decorated on every surface with flowers and bright ribbons. The older man offered his stooped mother his arm.

"Ah, Hiccup," she patted his arm, "Thank ye for helpin' a wee old lady like myself."

"Where would be without our witch, eh? Come, where is your Nightbane? He must be close."

She whistled and a massive dragon fell from the sky, his four wings whipping violently through the air. She cooed to the Stormcutter like a cat while Hiccup Horrendous Haddock IX coughed from the dust having been kicked up from his descent.

"My baby!" She laughed as he nuzzled her, careful of her teetering body. Hiccup lifted her bodily onto the dragons back, who cawed in pleasure to have his rider on his back once again, and she waved, "I shall see ye at the stones!"

He waved and eyes turned toward the witch and her dragon, everyone mounting and riding across the sky towards the valley between two mountains that looked suspiciously round from above. Between them was another calm, much bigger than the one around DunBerk. The Völva landed and slid from the back of her dragon without too much fuss, herds of dragons following and surrounding them outside the magical barrier. She teetered, patting her Nightbane on his darkly patterned shoulder, as six youths filed into the space. It was quite a mix, she saw, slightly laughing under her breath at the menagerie of monsters before her. A girl with hair like the sun in a long braid stood next to a docile Fireworm Queen. A pale boy with a long staff had miraculously tamed a Snow Wraith, his claws leaving ice where he stood. The two sisters that were well known stood by side, next to their respective choices, a Snowfury and a Raincutter, their colors of white and purple reflecting their dragons'. Two males stood on their side, a pale haired young man with broad shoulders that was kind with a protective streak a mile wide, which made his choice of the Crimson Goregutter a good match. The last was a darker boy, his little brother having been with her just a little bit before and heard the story, standing next to a pale Lightfury with blue eyes that glinted like the sky.

Clearing her throat, the crone smiled at them.

"So! What all would ye do to change yer fate?!"

The End.

* * *

**That's all folks. If you didn't catch it, the last bit included some other characters-Repunzel (Tangled), Jack Frost (Rise of the Guardians , Anna and Elsa (Frozen 1&2) and Tadashi Hamada (Big Hero 6). **

**I hope you've had fun on this journey and that you made it until the end. It felt rushed to me, rereading it, but like I said from the start-it has plenty of issues I don't have the time to fix. But it was a fun time to write and I would like to revisit the whole thing and finally post it to give it new life. **

**I hope this was as soothing to you as it was to me, that in a way it helped the ending of the films a little bit more bearable. **


End file.
